


Failing is Not Just for Failures

by CannibalKats



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Competitive Gamer AU, F/M, Hotel Sex, Oral Sex, Pegging, Phone Sex, handjobs, public handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: Kim Yoosung has been gaming competitively for 3 years, and recently rumors suggest he's unbeatable.  That is until Park Soojin manages to beat him.Yoosung is a sore loser.Sharing a sponsor the two are thrown together for a national team, can they get along or will their differences be too great?





	1. Chapter 1

When Kim Yoosung had graduated High School, the class president, top marks,with a scholarship to SKYU, this is exactly not where he saw himself.  Yoosung was a smart kid.  He worked hard.  School was not always easy but Yoosung had parents who were both strict and caring.  He didn’t have time to goof off.  He did his school work, he studied, sure he had friends and they hung out but only when he was finished with all of his responsibilities.

When he moved out on his own, away from his mother’s stopwatch and schedules and rules about when and how long to sleep, it surprised literally no one that Kim Yoosung cracked a little under the freedom.  No one but Yoosung himself.

Failure however had been good to Yoosung.

“What do you mean?” he’d grumbled to his school friend, Saeyoung.  A smart but eccentric boy from his elective computer sciences class that had introduced him to a game called LOLOL a few weeks into his first semester.

“You’re second on the server Yoosungie,” he’d laughed like it was obvious, “in like  _ months _ .  Do you know how much money you could be making if you actually competed?”

Yoosung hadn’t thought about it.  He’d been aware people competed at video games but his parents had never bought him a game console, or a computer capable of running more than Noogle docs and tripter at the same time.  

Though he figure hadn’t exactly bought the laptop he used for school specifically because it would run the game his friend had suggested he try.  He had definitely needed something more powerful for his coursework.  Just maybe not  _ that _ powerful.

His friend explained competitive gaming to him, explained tournaments and prizes and everything with the patience he always seemed to have specifically stored up for Yoosung.

“But you’re better than me,” Yoosung had snorted. “Why don’t _you_ compete if it’s so lucrative?”

Saeyoung chuckled, blushed just a little bit and waved his hand dismissively, “Used to but I don’t anymore, retired.”

“He means he got caught fucking cheating and they banned him,” his twin had snorted, white hair and a small cloud of smoke the only evidence that Saeran is sunk in the bright orange bean bag chair facing the balcony.

“That’s not really what happened,” Saeyoung mumbled and Yoosung didn’t push.

Yoosung had said he would think about it, and then promptly forgot.  Sure he was second on his server, but he  _ wasn’t _ first.  Everyone competing would all be top of their respective game  _ right _ ?  Still Saeyoung was persistent despite not bringing it up again barely two weeks later Yoosung had received passes in his mailbox along with a welcome package and conformation that he would be competing in a qualifying tournament.

That had been almost three years ago.

His first year had been good for a rookie. 

He’d made Saeyoung and Saeran come with him to first few tournaments but he’d quickly learned that having someone accused of cheating on the floor with him didn’t exactly endear him to anyone. Saeyoung had decided to stick to the crowd.  Saeran grumbling that they were idiots, that they should have  _ fucking known _ .

By the end of his first year Kim Yoosung had a fanclub.

“Every time you blush you gain 10 more fangirls,” his high school friend Zen had teased him.  

Acting by then, Zen had a fanclub of his own though he was infinitely more comfortable with it. 

He’d made friends with many of the top competitors, and enemies of others.  He’d always been competitive by nature, always been kind of a sore loser.  He’d made it through. At the start of his second year competing, cutting school down to part time and switching his major software engineering with the twins, he’s accused of cheating.

Yoosung is cleared, barely an investigation required.  Everyone knows, sore loser or not, questionable associations or not, Kim Yoosung is a terrible liar.

Zen starts to come with him to tournaments.  Zen had always had a way of snapping Yoosung out of a foul mood when he’d lost a round of Mario Kart on the ancient cartridge taking console of his sisters.  Not able to pout Yoosung makes more friends in the community.

By his third year Kim Yoosung is King of the Mountain.  Anyone who had ever been a challenge had retired, and Yoosung was experiencing the easiest season of his life.  Zen and Saeyoung had pointed out that he was getting cocky but Yoosung had only shrugged, “It’s not cocky if it’s true.  No one can beat me.”

That’s why, looking at the rankings he has no idea how he’d gotten here.

He’s still number one.   _ SupermanYoosung _ still holds the first place but two rounds in an unfamiliar name has crept up on him.  _ UnnieBunnie  _ sits squarely at number 2 and Yoosung doesn’t even know who they are.  He glances around the room trying to pick out any unfamiliar face.  Of course there were always newbies, he’d been one himself once but  _ two rounds _ and catching him  _ this fast _ ?  Why didn’t he know who they were?

He pulls out his phone, sitting outside the small press room with Zen and does the only thing he can think of;

[Yoosung]: Do I know UnnieBunnie?   
[God707]: Should I be checking your browser history?   
[God707]: Always kinda thought you might be into ERP   
[God707]: Yoosungie and his super secret Noona Kink?   
[Yoosung]: STOP! It’s important, did someone change their SN?   
[God707]: Gimme a second   
[God707]: Qualified a few weeks ago, newbie, I told you to watch the qualifying rounds Yoosung.   
[Yoosung]: I did!   
[God707]: You watched your friends lol that’s not what I meant.

Yoosung closes the window without responding, he can feel his cheeks heat up, Saeyoung was right but he hated admitting it.  He can see from the timer that he only has a few minutes before his interview.  Zen sits beside him in a mask and a slouchy hat flicking through his phone.  A musical theatre actor didn’t attract a lot of attention from the people competing but in the press circles he sometimes distracted from his friend.

Zen glances at Yoosung and he knows from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle Zen is smiling at him.  Yoosung forces himself to smile back and pulls up noogle on his phone.  Types in UnnieBunnie. LOLOL pops up and Yoosung scrolls until he finds a character page.  Account created March 2015, no identifying information, female character.  Yoosung checks out the gear on the page, Aesthetic but functional.  A lot of game gold spent on making her look good.   
  
Shooting Star Server, doesn’t surprise him, it’s a popular server, healthy economy and friendly players  _ mostly _ .  

An active member of his old guild. That was...He could work with that.

Yoosung searches through his contacts, thankful that he never deleted anyone ever and hopes his old guild leader hasn’t changed his number.  He finds it as his name is called.  Zen bumps him with an elbow and Yoosung looks up in time to see someone walk out of the room.  A black mask covers her face, a hat that almost matches his friends covers her hair, dark eyes watch him curiously as she passes.  The only thing that stands out to him about her is the fact that she’s wearing the ugliest pair of sneakers he has ever seen in his life.

“Kim Yoosung!” The man in front of him smiles standing.

The interview starts out the way they always start out. They ask about school, they ask about his parents, jokes about him not having a girlfriend.   _ A good looking kid like you?  Are you sure you’re not just hiding her from your fanclub? _  Yoosung always blushes and stammers.  They ask a few viewer questions.  The interview is almost over and Yoosung has almost forgotten about the rankings.  Lost in the familiar pattern.

“So are you nervous?”

“Of course not!” he chirps.  It comes out without thinking.  He hadn’t been nervous since midway through last season when his toughest competition had announced his plans to retire at the end of the season.

Except he is nervous.

“Not even of Park Soojin?” The interviewer asks with a smirk on his face.

It takes Yoosung an entire 15 seconds to put the pieces together, “UnnieBunnie?”

“So you are!” The man says with a mock gasp.

“No of course not,” Yoosung snaps.

They all laugh, the subject changes and Yoosung wishes his competitors luck and says his goodbyes.

Zen is already standing when he steps out of the room and they make their way to the gaming floor.  He hands his phone to Zen with a sigh. And stretches glancing out over the crowd.  Familiar faces nod and smile back, some frown, some look down intently at their keyboards.  Yoosung didn’t take it personally anymore.

“You nervous?” Zen asks, garnet eyes sparkling over his mask.

“N-no,” Yoosung says.  Not the show of confidence he’d been planning.

“Oh?” Zen chuckles.

Yoosung spots the black mask a few PCs down and across from him.  Big brown eyes lock with his from behind a pair of giant round glasses and he thinks he sees a challenge there. “I’m not,” he says firmly as she lifts a hand and waves at him.

He slumps down in his chair immediately while Zen laughs and squeezes his shoulder, “Goodluck Yoosung,” he says as he leaves to find the twins.

It was an aggressive wave, Yoosung tells himself.  She’s just using intimidation tactics and he’s not going to fall for them.  Yoosung is good at this, he’s number one on his server now.  He’s been placing in the top 3 for years, top 2 for more than 2 and he hadn’t lost a match in the last 6 tournaments.  This was the year he was going to compete internationally.  

If the offer was made again, he was going to take a semester off and compete for team Korea starting with the Overlook world cup.

He just had to place in the tournament, and Kim Yoosung was going to place first.

Kim Yoosung always did what he said he was going to.

He smiles for the cameras when the tournament starts.  Zen had taught him to be aware of them and he can hear the squeals from his fans when his smiling face is displayed on the big screen above them.  It still makes him blush, which only makes the screams louder.

There were chants, he’d learned to tune them out but he remembers a time when they used to throw them off.  Head down Yoosung does his best to tune out the roar of the crowd. He makes it through the next 13 rounds before he notices that his fans are chanting something he hasn’t heard in ages.

Its meant to encourage him.  They used to chant it when he was at risk of losing but Yoosung- he’s not.  He hasn’t lost in ages and he’s not going to now.  Except when he actually glances at the score-

It’s close.

It’s too close.

He hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to who he was playing against. His eyes flick from the action on his screen to the competitor information; UnnieBunnie.

_ Shit _

His momentum is shot, he’s already out of the moment and he can’t get past the chanting.  He tries to orientate himself and take a breath and in the process it hits him.  _ This is the final round _ , and he is so close to losing.  “ _ Fuck _ ,” he mumbles under his breath.

Next to him Choi Minkyu chuckles.  It might be words of encouragement he mumbles but Yoosung is already working to block the world back out.  He’s already trying to remember his macros, his rotations, trying to parse out UnnieBunnie’s strategy.  He chews the inside of his cheek so roughly he tastes blood but he can’t find a pattern.  

Later he might look over the match, might watch the commentary and realize exactly how even they were, but right now?  All Yoosung can do is go over his rotations and repeat over and over that he won’t lose.  He doesn’t lose.  He’s got this.

He doesn’t.

UnnieBunnie wins and a cheer goes up.  He pretends he doesn’t hear the disappointed whine of his fanclub as he slumps down in his seat and covers his head with his hands.

Everything moves too fast then, and Yoosung isn’t even sure how he’s gotten here, standing next to Lee Junseo and Park Soojin holding trophies and trying to remember how to make his face perform a smile.  There had been interviews, he tries to remember them, glances over the heads of the people in front of him congratulating him.  

What were they shaking his hand for, what did he have to be proud of?  He was the best of the losers.

Those big eyes watch him, while she answers questions from behind her mask.  Hiding, he thinks. 

Then it hits him.

He shoves through the crowd, grabs Saeyoung by the sleeve of his sweater and pulls him along behind him.

“Oh  _ Yoosung _ ,” Saeyoung fake swoons, “are we going to  _ celebrate _ ?”

Eyebrows waggle at him as he finally stops in an empty mens room.

“She cheated,” Yoosung huffs, out of breath.

“She didn’t,” Saeyoung laughs.

“She  _ did _ !”  Yoosung whisper shouts.  “It’s suspicious, she’s hiding her face.  Come on look into it I bet she cheated.  She rigged something.  She was f-fucking with me.  Look at the computer I used I  _ know _ she cheated!”

Saeyoung’s whole demeanor changes.  His jaw sets and he runs a hand through his messy red hair. “She didn’t cheat.”

“But what if she did, you have to check.”

“ _ You _ can check,” Saeyoung says.

“Yeah but if I do it it looks-”

“You’re a shitty loser Yoosung,” Saeyoung says firmly.  “She was better than you.”

Yoosung pouts, his chin juts out,bottom lip quivering slightly. He doesn’t mean to but he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I know she didn’t cheat,” Saeyoung shrugs, “and I know you don’t wanna accuse her of it without proof and  _ I’m _ not going to give you some bullshit to open an inquiry.”

“Then what do I-”

“I don’t know Yoosung talk to her maybe.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“I’m not going to help you then,” Saeyoung shrugs and walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

2

It’s been three days when Zen steps into their shared apartment after a two day shoot on the coast.

He sees his friend sitting on his couch, laptop in front of him, he can hear the commentary playing.  Yoosung is watching the match with UnnieBunnie again. He can hear the rise and fall of the crowd and remember the way the last few minutes had felt like everyone was holding their breath.

Empty takeout boxes sit on every surface of their apartment.  Yoosung’s hair is flat and greasy, pushed out of his face with a hairband and there’s stains on his sweater.  It smells, a little like body odour, a little like dirty dishes, a lot like desperation.

“Have you been watching this since you got home?” Zen asks, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Ya,” Yoosung says, head slumping forward in a bit of a nod but he doesn’t bring it back up.

“You shower recently?”

A shrug.

“Yoosung, you should change lets go get lunch.”

He shakes his head, “T’morrow.”

Zen slumps back and away from his friend and collects his thoughts. “Yoosung,” he says firmly.  He remembers when his hobby was schoolwork, when he’d aimed his competitive nature at test scores and Zen would sneak in through his window during school break to find his friend like this, pouring over some test or assignment he hadn’t completed perfectly.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Zen sighs.

“Saeyoung told me to,” he says, still not looking.

Zen closes the laptop.

“Hey!” Yoosung squeaks.

“Saeyoung didn’t tell you to get really fucking gross.”

Yoosung frowns, “No he said-”

“God,” Zen growls. “You lost to a girl, get over it.”

“I’m not,” he starts as Zen shoves himself off the couch.  This was how it always went with them. Yoosung wallowed, and Zen got mad, and then Yoosung snapped out of it.  But this time Zen is wrong. “It’s not because she’s a  _ girl _ ,” Yoosung shouts.

Zen pulls a trash bag out from under the sink and starts shoving the takeout packages into it.  “I don’t get it, I thought you were over this,” he mumbles.  Always losing momentum after snapping the first time.  “But I guess,” he struggles folding up a pizza box so it fits, “I don’t think you’ve been beat by a girl before.  I just thought you were better than this.”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” Yoosung shouts standing up. “I’m not better than- it’s not because she’s a girl it’s because,” he stops, his mouth snaps shut. “I’m going to take a shower.  We’ll go out, whatever.”

Yoosung strips as he walks to the bathroom.  Maybe he  _ was _ wallowing, maybe he was overreacting. UnnieBunnie was better than him, it had happened before, it would happen again.  He  _ knew _ that.  It wasn’t like the commentators were wrong he’s watched that match over and over, he’s watched her other matches.  All he’s been doing for three days is watching UnnieBunnie matches.

The hot water feels nice, his muscles relax, the itch in his scalp rinsed away with the slight burn of the water.  It doesn’t help the twisting feeling in his gut.  

Patterns, that’s what he’d been looking for.  Everyone had one, he had one.  The way they reacted, their rotations, but  _ she doesn’t _ .  He  _ can’t _ have lost to a fluke.  He won’t admit it yet but he’s sure she didn’t cheat either.  She’s good, she’s adaptable,  _ unpredictable. _

He lathers his scalp and thinks about it.  Some people were offensive some were defensive, everyone had a preference.  You could push a person out of it, he’d learned how, force them to defend and they question their ability and mess up.  She didn’t have a preference. He hates this.  She’s better than him but she isn’t as skilled as him.  It’s not a fluke, not cheating but here she is, first season and she beat him.

He can see where she didn’t fully consider the action she preformed, can see on her face when the camera is on her, she’s just  _ having fun _ he thinks.

But is it the game that’s fun, or was it messing with the players?

Was that her pattern?  Was her playstyle entirely psychological?

A knock on the bathroom door, “You ok Yoosung?” Zen calls.

“Yeah,” Yoosung answers, digging his fingers into his scalp.

“Gonna take the trash out,” Zen announces, “then we’ll get lunch.”

“Sounds good,” Yoosung calls after him.

Yoosung’s hair is shaggy, his signature clips don’t even really keep it out of his face any longer and he huffs out a frustrated breath, tugs it out of his face and ties a hair tie around it.  Listens to the door open and close.

“You ready?” Zen yells.

“Ya,” Yoosung says, he snaps a photo in the bathroom mirror, fingers up in a practiced peace sign and uploads it to tripter.

Zen slings an arm around his shoulders as they make their way to the sandwich shop he likes.  An arm out a selfie taken.  Yoosung barely registers the motion before his phone buzzes with the notification.

_ Lunch with my bestie, pick your flavor!! @supermanYoosung _

Yoosung groans. “Flavor really?”

Zen chuckles. “My agent wants me to interact more with my fans,” he shrugs.

“What am I then,” Yoosung frowns, it was a nice picture, Zen always took nice pictures.

“I dunno, something cute like strawberry shortcake,” Zen hums his arm dropping from Yoosung’s shoulders.

Yoosung mutes the post not wanting his phone to blow up with notifications. “The what are you,” he snorts, ignoring the heat in his cheeks.

“Dark chocolate,” Zen answers without consideration, “it’s sexy.”

“It’s bitter,” Yoosung snorts.

Zen shakes his head. “That’s not-”

“It tastes awful,” Yoosung teases.

“It  _ sounds _ se-” Zen starts, offended.

“If you’re dark chocolate everyone is going to pick me, I taste better,” Yoosung insists.

Zen howls and Yoosung freezes, his cheeks pink, his lips pursed as he realizes what he’s said.  Zen claps on his back to keep him moving.  He’s only happy Saeyoung isn’t with them, he’d never hear the end of it.   _ Saeyoung _ , Yoosung makes a mental note to apologise to him as they sit down with their sandwiches.

They eat in comfortable silence, Zen posting a photo of his sandwich for his tripter followers while Yoosung scrolls through his phone.  He catches up on his mentions, tries not to bristle at all mentions of his broken winning streak.

“So you got beat by a  _ girl _ ,” Zen says to break the silence, “whatever it happens.”

“It’s not because she’s a girl,” Yoosung sighs.

“Sure,” Zen snorts.

“I’m not,” Yoosung starts, his voice cracking as he tries to defend himself, “I’m not that stupid.  I don’t care that a girl beat me.”

“Then what?” Zen chuckles, he knows what.

“I don’t  _ like _ losing,” Yoosung whines.

Zen starts to talk.  Starts to ask him something but there’s laughter from across the sandwich shop and Yoosung feels like there are eyes on him.  There usually were, he reasons, trying to focus on his friend and his pep talk.  A few tables down he sees them.  

Familiar brown eyes stare at him curiously.  Her lips quirk up in a smirk and she waves at him, just a slight lifting of her fingers in sequence before she looks back at the man she’s sitting across from.  She might have had her face covered at the tournament, she may have traded round wire frames for a simple pink hornrim, but he’d recognize those ugly sneakers anywhere.

He slaps his hand against the table.  He recognizes the man too.  Han Jumin of C&R,  _ his _ sponsor.

“Hey,” Zen says and Yoosung snaps his eyes back to his friend.

“Sorry what?”

“I said,” Zen sighs and Yoosung can hear that his friend is frustrated with him.  He’s pretty sure he probably deserves it, “that some of our mutual fans  _ ship _ us.”

“Uh huh,” Yoosung says softly, not listening.  He watches her shake Han Jumin’s hand.

“They have a name for us,  _ ZenSung _ ,” Zen snorts.

“Yeah,” Yoosung says, still not really listening, something about ships. Yoosung wonders if Zen is in any fandoms, he hasn’t been cast in as he watches her continue to sit while Han Jumin stands.

“Yoosung there’s fucking art, like  _ fucking _ art,” Zen intones and suddenly Yoosung is paying attention.

“ _ What? _ ” he gasps, genuinely surprised. “Of  _ you _ ?”  He decides he shouldn’t be surprised, it’s not like he hadn’t looked up that kind of fan art before, though he’d never considered fans drew  _ actual people _ -

“Of  _ us _ ,” Zen says, exasperated.

Yoosung covers his face, cheeks and ears hot,  _ “Us? _ ” he gasps.  Han Jumin passes their table and Yoosung considers that if he could, the C&R Director might have looked embarrassed.

“God, haven’t you been listening?” Zen groans.

“No,” Yoosung admits.  “ _ Wait _ , you’re saying people  _ ship _ us?”

Zen huffs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said.  Yoosung, come on what the hell man?”

“That’s,”  Yoosung glances over and her eyes are on him again, she waves at him this time, “really  _ weird _ .”

“I guess,” Zen says around a mouthful of sandwich, “it’s pretty common though.  Don’t you pay attention to your fan pages?”

Yoosung shakes his head.  They’ve had this conversation a hundred times.  Yoosung does his best to respond to fans who reach out but he’s always been a little uncomfortable with the fanclubs.  He pretends they don’t exist.  He kind of wants to pretend the eyes on him from a few tables down don’t exist either but-

“Saeyoung said I should talk to her,” he blurts out.

“To who?” Zen says, letting the fan club conversation drop.

“UnnieBunnie,” Yoosung whines.

“Ok,” Zen shrugs, “like email her or-”

“She’s over there,” Yoosung tilts his head and from the corner of his eye he can see her smile widen, she waves again.

Zen smiles, waves back.

Yoosung’s eyes bug out a little at his friend, he hisses his name but Zen just laughs. 

“She’s cute,” he shrugs, “was she cute at the tournament?”

“She had her face covered.  She was just here with Jumin,” Yoosung blurts out.

“ _ God _ ,” Zen grumbles, “ _ that _ guy.  He’s a jerk but it’s not like he’s going to drop you because you placed second in one tournament.”

“I know,” Yoosung pouts.  He pushes himself out of his chair and leaves his half eaten sandwich with his friend.

“Superman,” She smiles sweetly at him as he approaches, “I was wondering if you’d come over and talk to me.”

“Unnie,” he starts and then stops, “I uh, I m-mean-”

“Oh no,” she giggles, “Noona is fine.”

Yoosung swallows.  He resists the urge to cover his face and shakes his head.   _ God _ this was a bad idea.  He tries to come up with something clever to say back but his mouth his dry, his heart is pounding. 

“You can call me Soojin, if I can call you Yoosung,” she says, but her lips are curled into a pleased little smirk.

“Th-thanks, Soojin,” he nods.

“I mean I  _ am  _ your Noona,” she adds, eyebrows raised.

“Oh?”

She giggles again, and shakes her head. “Sit down loser,” she gestures to the seat across from her.

It snaps him out of it.  “That’s  _ mean _ ,” he growls as he sits down.

“I’m just  _ joking _ ,” she insists, “you came in second, you still made bank, why are you so torn up?”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” he lies.  He wants to turn this back around. “It’s just you-”

“Cheated?” She smirks, “Because I didn’t, I crushed you fair.”

“Y-you,” he stammers and clamps his mouth shut.  A permanent blush on his cheeks since the moment she’d opened her mouth, Yoosung tries to gather his thoughts to figure out what he’d wanted to say to her.  She waits, her head tilted slightly while she watches.

“I?” She prompts.

She’s pretty he realizes.  There had been other girls in the tournaments, other pretty girls even. Zen was wrong though some of those girls had even beat him before but there’s something about Park Soojin.  Something about the way she watches him, the way she carries herself.

“God,” he says, somewhere between defeat and frustration. “You’re impossible!”

She laughs. “Yeah,” she nods, “and?”

He growls. “I just- I wanted to-”

“Uh uh?” she chuckles.

“Nevermind,” he mumbles, pushing away from the table. “It was stupid, nevermind.”

Something about her eyes change.  The smirk on her face doesn’t move but it no longer touches her eyes as she shrugs. “Whatever Yoosung.” She shrugs as he shuffles away.

“Ok, so she didn’t cheat,” Saeyoung says over party chat.

“And you’re sorry right?” Saeran adds.

“Yeah,  _ I’m sorry _ ,”  Yoosung mumbles.  “I’m sorry again.  Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Saeran snickers.

“Yeah it’s fine Yoosung,” Saeyoung says, and Yoosung knows he’s probably smiling.

“She doesn’t plan  _ anything _ ,” Yoosung continues, “or that’s how it looks.  How do I beat someone who’s just having  _ fun _ ?”

“See what you did?” Saeran snorts.

“What?” Saeyoung yelps.

“You took a perfectly good nerd and you made him a fucking professional nerd,” Saeran accuses.

“I didn’t!” Saeyoung laughs.

“Listen to him!”  Saeran shouts.  “He’s got  _ anxiety _ .”

Yoosung chuckles. “It’s  _ fine _ ,” he insists, “I just I dunno.  Usually I can figure it out afterwards but I can’t- she doesn’t follow any kind of pattern, there’s nothing to learn it’s like she already knows what I’m going to do.”  He sighs and leans forward with his elbows in his knees.

“Everyone does if they pay close enough attention,” Saeyoung points out. “You’re kind of predictable.”

Yoosung feels himself bristle, “Then why am I number one?”

“Number  _ two _ ,” Saeran corrects.

“ _ She’s _ number one,” Saeyoung adds.

He growls and turns his character towards his friend and fires a single shot at him.

“You shot me in the  _ ass _ ,” Saeyoung cackles.

“Shut up,” Yoosung whines.

Saeran snickers.

“I just want to figure out what I did  _ wrong _ ,” he grumbles. “I can’t even watch my match anymore, I can’t- I didn’t  _ do _ anything wrong but she  _ beat _ me.”

“Did you ever hear back from your old guild leader?” Saeran asks

“Your four Saeyoung,” He says quickly, watching Saeyoung’s character turn, before making a slight keening sound, “he hasn’t answered, I think he changed his number.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something today?” Saeyoung asks.

Yoosung whines. “In an hour.”

“Doesn’t it take almost an hour to get downtown?” Saeran asks.

Yoosung huffs. “I don’t even know if I’m going to agree to do it.”

“You set up your classes around it, don’t act like you still haven’t decided,” Saeyoung laughs.

“You’re not going to say no because you fucking lost,” Saeran snorts.

“I just don’t know, I said if I won last wee-”

“You said that when you thought no one could beat you,” Saeran points out.

“Yeah but then someone  _ did _ beat me, Saeran.”

“So?” The twins ask in unison.

“ _ Fine _ ,” Yoosung growls.  He turns the game off without saying goodbye or even logging out and shoves away from his desk.

He brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant before clipping his hair out of his face and pulling his hoodie on.  The bus is late, because of course it’s late but Yoosung still makes it to the C&R building just in time.  He finds the boardroom easy enough.  Han Jumin always picked the same one, even when it was just the two of them.

It’s not this time.  This isn’t really a meeting with Han Jumin over his C&R sponsorship.  Though the man in question insisted it be held in his office building where he could oversee the proceedings. Yoosung is the last of the Six gamers invited to be part of team Korea.  He can see Jumin’s eyes on him and he glances down at his hands, folded in front of him on the table.

Maybe he was a little late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> If you want to support the things I write visit me on Twitter:  
> @BotanyVampire


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re in trouble,” a voice beside him whispers.

Yoosung let’s out a sigh.  Eyes flicking back to Jumin’s disappointed face as Soojin snickers beside him.  He pulls out his phone and tries to focus on the representative and his presentation.  Yoosung ignores the little hums and comments from beside him as he takes notes.  Notes on things he plans to look into further, and things he needs to work on.  He can feel his cheeks and ears hot, knowing both Soojin and Jumin are watching him.

He feels like he’s 15 years old again and Zen has convinced him to skip the student government meeting to  _ hang out _ and his parents are watching him do his homework.   _ We’re not angry Yoosung, just disappointed _ , his mother would say.  His father would just shrug and Yoosung had always gotten the impression he was a little bit amused by the whole situation.

They sign the papers that finalize their agreements to compete for the national team.  A few of them, familiar from other tournaments stick around to chat.  Yoosung still sitting in his chair, looking over his notes as Kim Min’gyu talks about the last Overlook tournament and how close their 1v1 had been.

Yoosung hadn’t thought it had been that close.

“God you took notes,” Soojin snorts leaning to cover the space between them, “you’re  _ actually _ some kind of  _ nerd _ ,” she chuckles. “Gonna make the rest of us look bad.”

“Have fun,” Min’gyu chuckles patting him on the shoulder before he leaves.

“Mom looks grumpy,” Soojin whispers as the room clears out and they’re left alone with Jumin.  

He’d been right, Soojin was also sponsored by C&R.

He feels himself tense, Jumin was cold at the best of times and Yoosung had never disappointed the older man before. Soojin was trying to get under his skin.  Trying to work him up so he embarrassed himself in front of Han Jumin, Korea’s Youngest CEO, and King of Composure.  He wouldn’t rise to her bait.

They sit together and watch Jumin walk the representative to the door, watch him shake the smaller man’s hand and shut the door behind him before he turns.  His lips are pressed into a thin line as he glances between them before speaking.

“Both of you are supposed to be professionals,” he chides, “You are  _ supposed _ to represent the top of your field.”

“I’m sorry Jumin I-” Yoosung starts, trying to explain.  He didn’t have an excuse, not really but maybe, if the twins have worn off on him, he could wing it.  

Jumin interrupts him with a hand held up.  “Please, I don’t care why you were late.” He says sharply.  “The fact is you were  _ both _ late.”

Yoosung can’t help the way his head swivels to look at Soojin.  She’s unaffected by Jumin’s tone.  She doesn’t shrink from him the way Yoosung can feel himself doing.  Instead Soojin has squared her shoulders, she’s sat up straight, she doesn’t even glance at him as she stares holes into Han Jumin standing in front of them.  She looks combative.  However when she speaks her voice is soft.  Sweet even.

“I’m sorry Jumin Oppa.  I’m still getting used to the bus routes here.”

Yoosung can’t stop the way his mouth falls open.  Despite the sweet words and the way her voice lilts with the honorific nothing about her body language suggests sincerity.  Her jaw is still set, her eyes still narrowed and her shoulders still tensed.

Still Jumin’s shoulders soften and his face relaxes. He sighs. “I suppose I should have accounted for that.  Perhaps sent a car,” he shifts his glance to Yoosung, his eyes narrowing, “for  _ both _ of you.”

Yoosung sinks further into his seat. “Sorry Jumin,” Yoosung watches both of them look at him, expectation in both their eyes, “Hyung,” he adds, his ears hot. “Sorry Jumin Hyung,” he repeats.

Soojin chuckles.

Jumin makes a moving on gesture.  “Yoosung is familiar with the others I believe.”

“Min’gyu and I have competed as a team before,” Yoosung nods, “and Jieun too, I’ve competed a bunch of times against Yujin and Jinho.”

Jumin nods, bored, “Yes, you’re quite familiar with everyone but Park Soojin.”

Yoosung freezes.

“I expect the two of you to familiarize yourselves.  You do not just represent your country your represent  _ my _ business and I have heard some concerning rumors regarding your interactions.”

_ The twins _ , Yoosung thinks with a scowl.  They had been who had connected Jumin and Yoosung, someone they knew was close to the man.  He shakes his head. “It’s just rumors, because she’s new is all,” Yoosung says quickly.

The look on Jumin’s face is unconvinced.

“It’s a good idea Oppa,” she says, and when Yoosung looks over at her she’s relaxed.  Jumin’s scolding having shifted focus.  

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth, “great idea.  We’ll uh, we’ll figure something out.”

“We should probably team up in our spare time,” she says turning to look at him.  A smirk curling the corner of her pretty lips.

He kind of hates how pretty she is.

“Yeah,” he says, trying to keep his voice chipper.  “Soojin is right, we’ll arrange that ok?”

“Yoosung,” Jumin says his tone scolding.

Yoosung purses his lips, blood rushing to his cheeks. “Soojin Noona is right,” he corrects.

Jumin nods, pleased with himself. “Then I will leave you to it.”

Yoosung watches Jumin leave.  He watches the door as it swings closed behind the taller man and fidgets with his C&R guest pass, a permanent on with his name a picture Jumin had insisted on giving him.  “So what’s your schedule, when are you free?”

He looks back at Soojin, phone in her hand with her calendar opened. 

She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“W-why would you  _ do _ that?” He demands.

“What?” she asks tilting her head.

“Why are you trying so hard to embarass me?” He clarifies.

She shakes her head and chuckles. “I’m not?”

“You made me call him  _ Hyung _ !  You made me call you  _ Noona!” _  He’s whining, he sound petulant but he doesn’t care.  He’s so frustrated and embarrassed and he just can’t figure her out.

She laughs. “No I didn’t  _ do _ anything.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “I didn’t know he’d do that.  What the hell Yoosung?  Do you think I’m a witch?”

He groans. “No!  It’s just- I don’t-  _ god _ !  Why are you so  _ rude? _ ” He covers his face.  He knows he’s overreacting.  It’s not her fault he was late.  It’s not her fault Jumin reacted the way he did but everything she does, the way it all seems to backfire on him, seems so personal.

He’s not good at losing.

“I don’t have anything to do Friday,” she says softly.  Her shoulders drooping slightly and he wants to feel bad about it, knows he should, that in 15 minutes when he’s sitting on his bus home he will. “If that’s ok with you?  Do you want to come to my place or should-”

“It’s fine,” he says, taking the opportunity to put it in his phone so he doesn’t have to look at her, “around noon?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

“See you then,” he mumbles rushing out the door.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he passes the front desk and he fishes it out opening the door with his shoulder.

[@LOLOLGuilde]: Hey Superman, sorry about the wait.   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: You wanna know about UnnieBunnie?   
[@KimYoosung]: It’s ok!  Yeah!  What do you know about her?   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: Not much I guess, she kicked your ass huh?   
[@KimYoosung]: I guess.  I mean it was pretty even.     
[@LOLOLGuilde]: Yeah I guess she would, considering.   
[@KimYoosung]: Considering   
[@KimYoosung]: ????????????   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: Well yeah.   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: You uh, don’t know?   
[@KimYoosung]: Know?   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: Dude have you even talked to her?   
[@KimYoosung]: Yeah?  I guess?   
[@LOLOLGuilde]: Yoosung, she’s like you’re biggest Fan

* 

It’s almost funny how clueless Jumin could be sometimes, he thinks when he calls his sponsor for her number. “I’m not certain I should give you this informations,” Jumin ponders, “you could perhaps misuse it.”

Thursday, two days after the meeting, Yoosung realizes he doesn’t actually know where Soojin lives.  Not only that but he’d rushed out of C&R so quickly that he hadn’t even remembered to get her phone number. 

“Jumin I just,” Yoosung sighs, his cheeks pink remembering the way she’d smirked when Jumin had scolded him for being informal, “You want Soojin Noona and I to get along, I’m supposed to see her tomorrow to try to work on that but I don’t know where to go, I need her number.”

“Could you not send her a game message?”

Yoosung groans, “ _ Jumin Hyung, please _ ,” he whines.

There’s a pause.  Silence.  “I will contact Park Soojin and verify that this is something you’ve planned and then I will contact you with her information.”  Jumin agrees.

It takes 27 minutes for the C&R director to text him with the phone number.

[@Kim Yoosung]: Are we still on for tomorrow?   
[@UnnieBunnie]: Tomorrow?   
[@KimYoosung]: You said I should come over?   
[@UnnieBunnie]: Uhhh   
[@UnnieBunnie]: Wait…. What is tomorrow?   
[@KimYoosung]: Friday?   
[@UnnieBunnie]: Is this Yoosung?   
[@KimYoosung]: YES   
[@UnnieBunnie]: lol Sorry Yoosung, yeah tomorrow is fine, around Noon right?

Yoosung confirms the time with her, asks for her address and she even includes the bus route.  He grumbles under his breath.  She thinks he can’t even figure out a bus on his own?  God.

“What’s up Yoosung-ah?” Zen asks, standing in their kitchen over the greenest smoothie Yoosung has ever seen.

He makes a face. “My breakfast if you drink that in front of me,” he teases as he flops onto their couch.

Zen snorts and tilts the glass.  Yoosung makes gagging noises as he swallows the smoothie, only stopping once for breath. He rinses the glass and lets himself fall beside the smaller boy.  Leaning against him.

“Gross,” Yoosung whines, “you’re sweaty!  You smell!”

“You should come with me Yoosung,” Zen chuckles patting Yoosung’s belly. “You sit around and play games and eat, you’re gonna get chubby.”

Yoosung shoves Zen away, “Whatever, I’m fine.  Shut up.”

Zen laughs. “Ok well, remember next time you get drunk and cry because you don’t have a girlfriend-”

“God!” Yoosung grunts.  “It’s fine!”

“So what’s bugging you?”

“UnnieBunnie,” he mumbles.

“Still,” Zen snorts. “I guess she  _ was _ pretty.”

“It’s not-  She’s not! Well she is but,  _ that’s not what this is about _ !” Yoosung says, exasperated.

“Uh huh,” Zen says shifting to lay with his head on Yoosung’s leg.  Looking up at his friend.

“It  _ isn’t _ ,” he insists as Zen snaps a picture.

Yoosung continues to scowl down at him, ignores the chirp of his phone as Zen uploads the photo and tags him. “Alright, what is it then?”

“She’s kind of mean,” Yoosung says and when Zen raises an eyebrow he corrects. “I mean not like  _ mean _ mean, just-”

“She picks on you?” Zen asks.

Yoosung nods, “She- I don’t even know her and she made me call her Noona, and then she made me call Jumin Hyung and and  _ he _ makes me-” Yoosung watches Zen suppress his laugher and moves on, “she calls me  _ Loser _ , and she acts like, I don’t even know she’s just-”

“Pulling your pigtails?”

“ _ God _ , that’s not, no!” Yoosung finishes.

“Well what is it, I mean ok, she teases you.  Saeyoung teases you,” Zen points out.

“Yeah but he’s  _ better _ than me,” Yoosung complains.

Zen smirks and sits up, “ _ She’s _ better than you, she beat you.”

“She  _ beat _ me,” Yoosung concedes, “it doesn’t mean she’s  _ better.” _

Zen laughs. “She thinks she is,” he says through the laughter.

Yoosung pouts and nods.

“And she’s pretty,” Zen adds.

Yoosung blushes and clenches his teeth.

Zen snorts out a laugh.

“Apparently she’s,” Yoosung’s blush deepens and he shifts his eyes away.  Changes his mind and lets the words die.

Zen stretches, his thoughts evident on his face as he moves to stand. “She’s what?” he decides to push.

“I guess she was my fan.” Yoosung mumbles. “I mean a few years ago at least, when I was new.  She joined Dia because it was my guild.  But I don’t-”

Zen chokes back a laugh.

Yoosung frowns at him, “If she was my fan now why is she being so _ mean _ ?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re kind of being an asshole?” Zen asks softly, and then he leaves.

Yoosung throws a pillow at the door as it closes and checks the notifications from the picture Zen had uploaded.   
  
_ @UnnieBunnie _ :  _ Looks like someone is sleeping on the couch tonight Zennie _ .

 


	4. Chapter 4

4

Yoosung pouts, he pouts for the entire day, he pouts while he eats his breakfast and he pouts while he updates his tripter.  He pouts while Zen tells him about the new role he’s auditioning for and he pouts while Saeyoung texts him teasing words of encouragement.

His pout is particularly compelling on the bus.

Soojin lives closer to C&R than him, close enough he almost wonders how she was late, but far enough that the bus route past her building takes him over an hour.  He sits, pouting with his forehead pressed to the window of the bus when an older lady lowers herself slowly into the seat beside him.

“Rough night,” she asks, her voice sweet but graveled by age.

Yoosung shakes his head.

“Ah,” she drawls as though she knows exactly what he’s thinking, “pretty girl.”

“N-No!” Yoosung almost shouts. 

She laughs, unperturbed by his outburst. “A pretty  _ boy _ , then?”

Yoosung makes a soft whining noise, “It’s n-not like that!”

She chuckles softly.  “Alright, alright, no offence.”  she settles against the seat and Yoosung hears her sigh, almost wistfully, “ _ To be young and in love _ .”

Yoosung turns back to the window.  She’s wrong of course, there’s nothing soft in the way he feels about Soojin.  It’s sharp, anxious. Waiting for his stop is like sitting on a throne of daggers, each one could cut him and leave him vulnerable, give her and easy way under his skin. The old woman is wrong, but Yoosung can hear the way she’d said it so he looks out of the window instead of correcting her.

She gets off at the next stop, a hand over his, she leans into him as she stands.  She smells like lavender, and linoment, he can hear her creek like an old house and she smiles at him. “You’re young,” she says softly, “nothing’s forever, don’t dwell on it.”

Yoosung smiles at her and stands himself.  The bus is busy and she’s been nice, so he walks with her to the door with a hand on her elbow.  He offers to help her off the bus as she laughs.

“I’m not that old kid,” she chastises him. 

He’s off the bus in three more stops.  Looking up at a high rise building and then down at the address on his phone.  He inhales deeply as he approaches and sends a text from the door, overwhelmed.  There’s no response but the soft click of the locked lobby door.

Inside he steps into an elevator, hits the button for the 4th floor and steps out.  A row of doors, all exactly the same line the hall.  Not like his building where each resident has hung decorations on their doors.  Just dark wood doors, unremarkable with clear block letters to signify the address.  He stops in front of 408 and knocks.

His heart pounds as he waits.  He thought, the first time he was invited to a girl’s apartment would be different but this is not a date.  Not anything he’s considered when he’d concocted his future.  Nothing had really gone the way he’d expected if he’s honest and until this moment he would have said reality was better.

Except he’s sweating, and nervous, and a little afraid.

The door opens.

Soojin stands in front of him, her light hair pulled back and he notices for the first time a soft peach streak hidden in the hair tucked behind her ear.

He shifts his weight feeling slightly overdressed in jeans. Soojin steps back, furry slippers scuffing the floor as she moves.  She wears a loose grey cotton shirt and Yoosung can’t tell if she’s wearing leggings or sweats.  He fumbles with the hem of his shirt.

Even without the small amount of make up she’d been wearing the previous times they’d met she’s pretty.  Yoosung pushes the thought out of his mind, makeup didn’t make people pretty, he reminds himself, and that’s not why you’re here.

“Is this how you always dress to play video games?” She asks.  

He thinks she might be blushing.

Her apartment is nice, compact but not cramped.  He follows her to the kitchen, a mix of modern and feminine he finds completely contrary to what he’d seen so far from Park Soojin.  The kitchen is dark painted wood, and shiny metal fixtures.

“I uh, I guess not,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine whatever,” she shrugs, “drink?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” he says, forgetting he’s nervous, forgetting he doesn’t want to be here.  Lost in the slight excitement of discovering a new place.

She opens a soft lilac coloured refrigerator and glances back, “Coffee?  Soda?” She curls her lip, “Water?”

“Soda is fine,” Yoosung says glancing around.  The fridge matches the rest of the appliances, everything looks new.  Barely used.”

He put most of his money away, used it for school. The apartment he shared with Zen was nice but this was- Yoosung wonders if it’s just the difference between a boys apartment and a girls apartment.  He considers his friend Sun from class and wonders if their apartment would be somewhere in between.

“You can sit down,” she frowns handing him the soda.  “Do you want a glass?”

He shakes his head and follows her to the couch. Grey, there are soft pink cushions everywhere, some of them furry, some of them with anime and video game characters on them.  Pink and purple pokemon stuffed toys seem to also serve as throw pillows.  He settles in, pausing as he moves to set his drink on the table.

Soojin shakes her head and he notices a number of coasters on the table, the flowers stand out and as he drags on closer he frowns, bright pretty flowers blooming out of a ribcage decorate the coaster.  He sets his can down quickly.

Under the table is plush furry peach rug, he leans against the back of the couch and digs his toes into it.  He almost wishes he wasn’t wearing socks.  Her TV is large, maybe larger than his he thinks bitterly as she tosses him a controler.  

Hers is pink, he notices, the one he’s caught a pastel blue and the console itself covered in a cute skin he recognizes from an anime.  The TV is set into a shelving unit, manga, graphic novels and fandom figures fill the shelves, he notes that more than one of the pop figures he spies appear customized.

There is fan art frames and lovingly hung on the wall.

“Do you have a preference?” She asks.

He frowns at the guest profiles on her console, wonders how often she has people over, and wonders why he cares.  He picks  _ Good Boy _ over  _ Naughty Baby _ , and hates that he blushes.  “Not really, I guess we’re just getting to know each other right?”

She shrugs when he looks at her, his cheeks going hot when he notices behind her, tucked between the kitchen and the small hall to the bathroom is her bed.  Furry pink throw across the foot covered in stuffed toys, it’s carefully made, blankets soft pinks and purples, a star pillow that matches the one on his bed sits in the middle of her pillows, surrounded by larger stuffed animals.  

An art print from a ghibli film hangs above her bed, soft and aesthetic and Yoosung finds himself wondering how someone who’s home is so soft could possibly be so mean.

“You ok Superman?” She frowns.

“Yeah,” he mumbles looking back at the TV.

“You wanna work together or play something competitive?”

“We’re supposed to be working together in Overlook,” he mumbles.

“Just thought you might feel like embarrassing yourself a few times first.” She chuckles.

Yoosung huffs out a breath through his nose.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her look at him, her smile is soft but playful as she selects a co-op side scrolling adventure game.  He relaxes as they create their characters, decorating the little toy lump bodies to their preference.  Yoosung doing his best to make his look as much like a hero, and as much like himself as possible while Soojin’s is a baffling collection of hair and clothes that somehow works.

“It’s just kinda neat right?” She says when she notices him staring at it during the prologue.  

He thinks maybe he sees her blush.

They’ve both beat this before and as the worlds are already unlocked Soojin makes the executive decision to skip to the last few.  He can’t argue the choice and it doesn’t take long for them to fall into a pattern.  He makes a note of her network name, not UnnieBunnie when she’s playing alone, just like he had an alternative to SupermanYoosung when he wanted to avoid the spam.

They’re a good team.  Maybe he’ll have to ask her to play Overlook on their own, not just with their official team.  He thinks if he plays her pocket healer the two of them could probably two man regular comp without a problem.  He doesn’t say it out loud though.

“God you play everything like this,” she groans at one point.

“Like what?”

“Like it’s a fucking mathematical equation.” She mumbles. “X plus Y equals Z and if X is this attack than Y is this defence.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He frowns.  It seemed like that could describe almost anyone he’d ever played.

“That’s why you’re easy to beat.” She shrugs.

He bristles but he lets it drop.  He’s not here to argue, they’re supposed to try to get along.

The finish the final world and Yoosung offers to order take out.  She’s fun when she’s not being mean, he decides as he watches her.  She stands and stretches, her shirt falls off her shoulder slightly when she straightens and she announces she has to run outside.

“To feed the strays,” she explains.

Yoosung pees, he helps himself to another soda from the fridge, and when the pizza guy knocks he answers the door.

“Oh,” the delivery guy chirps, surprise and disappointment colouring his face.

“I uh, I paid online?” Yoosung responds when he continues to hold their pizza.

“You’re the boyfriend?” He asks. 

Yoosung freezes, he wants to correct him but the way the delivery guy holds the box still, frowning at him stills his tongue.  Yoosung tries to make himself fill the doorway when he notices the man craning his neck to look inside.

“Hmm, I kinda thought she made you up,” he says, it’s accusatory.

“Nope,” Yoosung does his best to smile wide.  He glances over his shoulder to the balcony where Soojin is crouched, ignorant of what’s happening at her door.  The container of cat food forgotten as she does her best to pat the 4 cats circling her. 

“Huh,” he responds, reluctantly letting go of the box. “Well nice to meet you Yoosung.”

His eyebrows shoot up.  He hadn’t used his name on the order, had paid with a card billed to C&R that Jumin had given him to cover his tournament expenses.

“That’s what she said your name was.”

“It is,” Yoosung nods, shock turning smug. “You want to see my ID?”  He might be floundering at everything else lately but this was something he could do.

The guy shrugs, he holds out the little tool for Yoosung’s signature and walks away, tightlipped.

The balcony door slides open and Yoosung can hear her cooing at the cats as she backs inside the apartment.

They eat pizza over her kitchen island, hovering with napkins over the box.

“Pineapple?” she asks as she pulls a slice out.

“You said to order whatever I wanted?” He says quietly.  Zen always complained when he ordered it.

“I see you also enjoy the finer things in life,” she smiles and he looks away as she eats half the slice in one bite.

He laughs despite himself.

She starts up something competitive when they sit back down. It’s cute, like most of the things she has, the goal being to push your opponent out of the safe zone.  

She sits with her legs crossed, a big round stuffed fox hugged between the controller and her body, her chin resting on it’s head as they play.  He tries to pretend like he didn’t see her gather it from the bed.

“Wow, you’re bad at this,” she comments with a scoff.

“I’m not,” he insists. “It’s just  _ new _ .”

“Uh huh,” she laughs.

He grinds his teeth.  She teases him more.  

“You always leave you flank open,” she scolds.

“You should have expected it,” she laughs when he whines, “It’s not like it’s impossible, I just did it!”

“You’re so fucking  _ predictable _ ,” she says finally.

“ _ Stop _ ,” he almost shouts the word and she jumps when his controller clatters to the table.

“Hey!”

“No, stop,” he says, again.  Voice controlled, face hot, he doesn’t look at her. “You’re  _ mean _ ,” he accuses.

“You keep saying that,” he watches her body language.  Like when Jumin scolded them earlier in the week.  She plants her feet on the floor, her eyes narrow, her shoulders square but her voice isn’t sweet when she speaks to  _ him _ . “I’m not mean I’m honest.”

“You’re mean about it though,” he accuses.

She shakes her head. “You  _ are _ predictable,” she says. “And you  _ do _ approach everything like its an equation, and you do leave your flank open because every time because you’re too cocky to expect people to use moves like the one I did.”

“Because  _ no one else does _ ,” he says, gesturing to punctuate his words.

“But _ I  _ do,” she points out. 

“ _ You _ don’t count,” he grumbles. “You don’t,” he trails off.

“Don’t  _ what _ ,” she frowns.

“Fight fair!” His bottom lip juts out in a frown and Yoosung can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed.

“Just because you can’t figure me out doesn’t mean I’m playing dirty,” she laughs.

Yoosung shakes his head, “You  _ tease _ me!” He says throwing his hands up. “Your, you- You!” he starts stumbling. “Psychological  _ warfare _ !” He points at her as she stands up, takes a step back as she gets closer.

_ “What _ ?”

“You know, you- The uh, the way you waved at me in the tournament to get in my head, a-and then that day in the sandwich shop, and th-the other day at the meeting.”

She rolls her eyes, but her lips quirk up in a small smile. “Ok I’ll bite what did I do at the meeting.”

“You made Jumin make  _ me _ call you,  _ Noona! _ ”

She laughs.  “Well I am your Noona Yoosung,” she shrugs. “And I didn’t make Jumin do anything, that was just a happy coincidence.”

“ _ Ugh _ ,” Yoosung groans.

“What about  _ you _ ,” she accuses, a soft finger in his chest.

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything,” he shoots back.

“Pft. Sure ok,” she rolls her eyes again. “You’re cocky Kim Yoosung.  You can’t beat me so you thought I cheated, but you’re not stupid enough to really believe that.  You approached me at lunch because you we worried about your sponsor, and then you called me  _ mean _ in a meeting with him.”

“Jumin wasn’t even in the room!” he says defensively.

“You think those rooms aren’t monitored?”

Yoosung shrugs.

“ _ You’re _ rude, you’re full of yourself and you can’t accept that you lost fair and square so you keep accusing me of having some kind of trick up my sleeve to feel better about yourself.”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” he throws his hands up. “That’s  _ not! _ ” he tries again. “Everyone keeps saying you’re my fan or whatever _ but if you were my fan why are you so mean _ ?”

She freezes.  Her face goes slightly red and her brow knots together. “Who,” she asks quietly. “Who said-”

“Jihoon-ssi,” he says, “I saw you were in Dia and I texted him to ask about you,” his face his hot, his cheeks are burning, “he said you were a,” he swallows, “a big fan, or something.”

The room is quiet for a long time.  The two of them standing in the middle, faces red with embarrassment, teeth clenched.

Soojin’s shoulders relax first. “Well yeah,” she admits. “Yeah I’m your fan, kinda reconsidering it lately, but-” she pauses and looks at him, “Why do you think you were so easy to predict?”

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you play for years, I know all your plays, all your moves?  That’s how I got so far.”

“But you-”

“I just button mash when I know I can’t outplay you.  Lucky I guess.”

Silence falls over Soojin’s stupid apartment, her big dark eyes are wide behind her glasses, her lips plush between her teeth where she chews at them nervously.  She’s pretty, he thinks for the millionth time.  

This time it’s different.  She’s pretty, he’d thought before, like another boot in his back.  She’d beat him, and she was pretty, her home was nice and he was a mess.  She’s pretty, he thinks now and there’s a different intonation to it.  She’s pretty, and she’s good at games, and she’s his fan and he maybe wants to-

“You told the Pizza guy I was your boyfriend,” he says suddenly.

Her head cocks and she scowls. “Jesus, did he tell you that?”

“Yeah,” Yoosung shrugs, the implications lost on him beyond the very surface.

“I guess,” she mumbles and hugs her arms around her waist. “Well I guess he thinks your real now. Sorry yours was just the first name I thought of and-”

“Why would you do that?” He blurts out.

She frowns. “Because he’s,” she waves a hand, “persistent.  Whatever.  I told him I had a boyfriend so he’d leave me alone.”

“I don-”

“God whatever,” she says walking towards the kitchen. “I didn’t really realize I was going to know you, or that you’d be kind of an asshole.  It doesn’t really matter if it makes you uncomfortable because it’s not like I told him  _ you _ were my boyfriend, just that his name was Yoosung.”

He follows her, takes her shoulder and turns.  He means to have her face him so he can apologize.  For everything, not just whatever he might have been implying when he asked about the pizza guy. But she shoves him.

It’s harder than she meant and she catches him by the elbows when he stumbles backwards, they fall against the counter.  Yoosung trapped between Soojin and the smooth marble, his hands fisted in her sleeves to keep from falling.

“You’re  _ mean _ ,” he says with the hint of a smirk.  Not sure exactly why beyond testing her reaction.

“And you’re a fucking baby,” she shoots back, her own lips curling as she presses him against the counter, stopping to hover just above him.

He hadn’t noticed she was taller.

His cheeks pink, Yoosung had kissed before, not a lot but he’d done it.  He’d kissed a few girls and once he’d kissed Saeran at a new years party.  He had never kissed a taller girl.  He’d never found himself begging. 

“ _ Please _ ,” he says softly when he can’t bear the weight of her eyes on his lips any longer.

She bullies her thigh between his and tilts his chin with her finger. “Hmm?” 

“Please  _ Noona _ ,” he whimpers as her lips press against his.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Nothing is his life had gone the way he’d expected and today was no exception.  Caged against Park Soojin’s kitchen counter, that is what Yoosung would be thinking,  _ if _ he could form a coherent thought beyond  _ please _ or  _ more _ .  There’s nothing soft about the way she kisses him, her teeth tugging on his bottom lip before her tongue licks into his mouth.

It’s all he can do not to whine, hands still fisted in her sleeves as if his whole world was off kilter.  As if her kitchen could glitch out at any moment and they would clip through the floor.  She shakes him off, her hands sliding down his sides to rest on his hips for a moment before she slips them over his ass and squeezes. 

He yelps, and she takes the opportunity to kiss and bite along his jaw, her palms flat tracing the curve of his ass before she tugs at his legs, pulling him until he shifts his weight, pushes himself up to sit on the counter.  She steps closer then, invading the last of his space as she slips one hand into his hair and tugs.

Yoosung moans, it’s high and keening and the lips against his throat curve into a smile before she bites down.  Her hand, a firm pressure curved around his inner thigh is the only thing that stops him from rolling his hips and he whines.  Her fingers digging bruises into the soft flesh there.

The hand in his hair shifts, nails against his scalp elicit a moan that she swallows, capturing his lips with hers, tongue fucking into his mouth.  Fingers comb softly through his hair before tugging, her other hand smoothing up and down his thigh, her thumb digging into the soft flesh, punctuating the thrust of her tongue, alternating with the hand in his hair.

Yoosung isn’t even sure the kitchen still exists.

Once he’d been playing a game where he’d glitched into a non-existent basement level with a pie wearing a hat.  It was surreal.   _ This _ was surreal.

The hand on his thigh slips farther up and tugs him forward, he feels hot as his groin presses against her belly.  He’s so hard and that little bit of friction- she loosens her grip on his leg.  His his hips roll against her and the sound he makes his somewhere between a whine and a growl.

Her other hand drops and he whines when she thumbs the fabric of his jeans on either side of his dick, a smirk pressed against his neck as he whimpers out  _ Noona please _ .

“Please what, Baby?” She asks pulling away, a smug smile curving her lips.

He sputters, both at the sudden distance and having to  _ say _ what he wants.

She only stands there, cocking her head to one side and smirking at him.

He’s red from his chest to the top of his head.  His ears are probably steaming, he considers as he tries to find the words. “T-touch me?”

“Hmm,” she raises a finger to tap against her bottom lip.  _ God _ he just wants to pull that lip into his mouth, to run his tongue along it, to- “you don’t sound convinced.”

“Please,” he begs, “please Noona, please touch me!”

“ _ Needy _ ,” she scolds her hand running along the inseam of his jeans.

He whines.

“Oh?” she continues to smirk at him, leans in to nip at his earlobe, “Is this not good enough pet?”

He shifts his hips and shakes his head.

“I can’t  _ hear _ you,” she sings.

“ _ More _ ,” he whines.

“Good Boy,” she chirps, she presses her palm over the curve of his cock through his jeans.

He drops his head to her shoulder and ruts against her hand, presses sloppy kisses between moans to the skin exposed where her shirt has fallen off her shoulder.

And then, very suddenly, she pushes him up and steps away. 

“N-no, no,  _ please,”  _ he whines, slipping boneless of the counter and barely catching himself from falling when his knees buckle.

“No I think that’s enough,” she tries to coo but her voice is rough and he can see her cheeks are as pink as his, her pupils are blown.  Her soft lips swollen and spit slicked, and Kim Yoosung can not for the life of him figure out why she would stop.

He shakes his head. “Did I do something  _ wrong _ ?”

She chuckles softly and brushes his hair out of his face, fixes the clips that had been knocked askew by her fingers in his hair. “No,” she says, “not at all, but I’m not going to fuck you the first time you stop acting like a total prick.”

He tries to protest, to say he wasn’t being a  _ total _ prick.  To point out that maybe she wasn’t exactly that nice to  _ him _ either but soft hands cup his cheeks and she presses a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips.

“You should go home Yoosung.”

He shakes his head but he moves towards the door.

“You should add me to your friendlist when you get home,” she adds as he slips his feet into his sneakers.  Stepping down the backs the way his mother hates in his daze.

He nods.

The only thing he remembers about the bus ride to his apartment is the complete and total fear that anyone passing him on the bus would be able to tell how hard he is.  Coupled with his inability to think of anything but the way her hands had felt digging into his thighs, tugging at his hair.  The way she’d called him  _ baby _ and  _ pet _ and  _ Good Boy _ .

He’s a mess.  His hands shake as his digs his keys out of his pocket and he can hear music inside his apartment.  

He freezes, key finally in the lock and listens.  Best case scenario, he thinks, is that Zen has brought someone home and he can lock himself in his room, take care of his hardon and then play whatever the twins are playing while definitely not overthinking whatever had just happened in Soojin’s kitchen.  Worst case-

He pushes the door open, soft and slow hoping not to be noticed but he can already tell, the music isn’t coming from a stereo.  It’s the digital piano his mother had insisted he bring with even though he wasn’t planning to ever play it again.  His cousin Rika sitting at it playing.  Yoosung tugs at the hem of his sweater and squeezes his thighs together, frantically searching for Zen who, leaning against the back of their couch, shrugs at him.

“Hello Yoosungie,” she sings, fingers dancing across the keys.

They were not exactly close, their mother’s had had a falling out when Yoosung was in middle school but when Rika had found out Yoosung and Zen lived together she’d begun to occasionally stop by.  She’d been, as Yoosung understood it, almost a prodigy on the piano, and occasionally-

“We’re working together again,” She sing songs.

Zen shrugs  _ again _ . “Yep.”

“That’s uh,” Yoosung stumbles over his words, tugs at his jacket again, “good?  Nice for you both.”

The piano stops and she frowns at him, “You’re home late Yoosung, is everything ok?”

“Its  _ fine _ ,” he squeaks.

Zen’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah?  She didn’t pick on you again Yoosung-ah?”

Yoosung glares at Zen. “No, it was fine, she was fine, everything is just-”

“Fine?” Zen chuckles.

“She?” Rika smirks, eyes narrowing on Yoosung. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“N-no!” Yoosung snaps. “It was, she’s not-” he covers his face with his hands. “We  _ work _ together, and we had trouble getting along and we don’t anymore.”

Zen’s eyebrows disappear into his hair as listens to Yoosung’s voice pitch up and the last couple words string together. “The girl that beat him last week,” he clarifies and Yoosung can see the way he stops himself from laughing.

It only makes the heat in his cheeks worse.

“Oh!”  Rika chirps. “Jumin is sponsoring her, yeah?”

Yoosung nods.

“Oh!” She chirps again, “Was this about the watcher look game thingy?”

Yoosung shakes his head and tries to sort those words out in his head for a moment.  They certainly are words, her thinks as he tries to make sense of them, all strung together like they mean something.  It takes him longer than he should, mind wandering back to fingernails against his scalp and teeth against his throat, before it clicks. 

Slowly he answers her, “Over _ look _ , yeah.  We’re uh, we’re on a team and it’s ok.  I’m uh, I’m over it,” he mumbles.

Rika smiles and sits down at the piano again.

“It’s late Noona,” Zen says softly, “do you need for me to call you car?”

Rika’s jaw sets as she looks up at him shaking her head.

“Yoosung-ah has classes in the morning,” Zen lies and Yoosung is grateful.

“Ah, I suppose it  _ is _ late,” Rika nods. “I can get home, thank you Zennie.”

“Mmhmm,” Zen hums as she pulls herself to standing and bends for her to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Noona.”

She ruffles her fingers through Yoosung’s hair and it’s all he can do not to yelp.  Zen’s smirk is feral when he closes the door behind her.

“ _ Fine _ ,” he snorts stalking towards Yoosung. “She’s  _ fine,” _ he chuckles, pushes the collar of Yoosung’s sweater away from his neck and howls with laughter.  

Yoosung watches Zen double over, hands braced on his knees as he laughs. “Yeah I  _ guess _ , you don’t have a problem  _ working together _ anymore,” he manages to wheeze between breaths.

“ _ Stop _ ,” Yoosung whines.

“You have a  _ hickey!” _ Zen wails.

Yoosung’s hand clamps to his neck, “I  _ what _ ?”

“And god, you know you’re not subtle?  Like New Years? No one has to see your dick to know you have a boner god.” Zen cackles.

“God, I hate you,” Yoosung snaps and stomps away.

He slams his bedroom door, blocking out the sound of Zen’s laughter and presses his back against it.  He takes four deep breaths, his hardon finally waning Yoosung thinks maybe he can get through the rest of this night with his dignity in tact.

He tosses his phone on the bed and changes into his Pajamas, soft blue pants covered in sheep, he tosses his clips on the table next to his bed and pulls a hairband from the top of his dresser.  He collects his laptop bag from beside his bed and flops on his bed, adjusting himself in his pants before pushing up to get comfortable

Yoosung pulls on his headset and opens the twins Discuss channel.  It’s busier than he expects but as usually the conversation is minimal.  It’s Saeyoung who greets him.

“Ahh, Yoosungie!” He chirps in the voice chat.

And somewhere in the background Yoosung’s ears pick up the unmistakable sounds of sex. “What’s uh?” He tries.

Saeyoung lets out one short  _ heh _ , “Peepee touch?”

“What?!”

Saeyoung laughs. “Calm down, calm down.  Saeran’s playing a game.”

“ _ What kind _ of game makes  _ that _ -” Yoosung whines cutting himself off.

Saeyoung chuckles again. “The kind where you play co-op with your mic open and porn playing loudly in the background.  He’s giving a prize to anyone who has the balls to mention it,” his friend chuckles again.

“ _ God _ ,” Yoosung whines.  Erection threatening once again he closes Discuss and sets his laptop aside.  He reaches for his phone, a notification blinking.  Saeyoung teasing him, he figures.

[UnnieBunnie]: Get home ok Superman?   
[SupermanYoosung]: …   
[UnnieBunnie]: Wait   
[UnnieBunnie]: RU   
[SupermanYoosung]:  NO!   
[UnnieBunnie]: YOOSUNG   
[SupermanYoosung]: STOP   
[UnnieBunnie]: UR so cute, god   
[SupermanYoosung]: ... ):   
[UnnieBunnie]: Such a baby   
[SupermanYoosung]:  … ):   
[UnnieBunnie]: Most people just jerk off…   
[SupermanYoosung]: NOONA!   
[UnnieBunnie]: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
[UnnieBunnie]: Sweet Dreams Pet!

Yoosung stares at the texts,  _ just jerk off _ , it seems weird in this situation. Zen is awake, and aware of his _ situation _ .  He barely knows Soojin.  He considers the fact that if he  _ did _ just jerk off right now there would be two people who know what he’s doing.  That’s weird, he thinks,  _ right _ ?

He shrugs, and makes a choice.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Yoosung gets teased, so do you.
> 
> Also Peepee touch is a very real game a few people in my old ass WoW guildies used to play when we had PUG raiders with us.


	6. Chapter 6

Yoosung hates this.  It’s not that he doesn’t like parties, the opposite really.  Kim Yoosung liked parties, he liked them a little too much.  Easy to get caught up in the party, a little too easy for Yoosung to hit that point of no return where he knows he should refuse that last drink but instead he reaches for it.  Yoosung likes those parties.  And when the hangover passes he likes groaning and complaining about the embarrassing things he did while drunk.

  
Like that time he saw a live squid at the fish market and Saeyoung had cried so he’d bought it and tried to keep it in their bathtub.

  
He doesn’t like parties like this.  Parties where everyone has to pretend to be responsible adults, pretend to have fun.  Parties where he’s supposed to stand with Zen and Saeran and look cool and sip at his single beer on a timer so he doesn’t embarrass Han Jumin in front of his investors.  He hates that while he stands here next to Zen trying to look equal parts aloof and approachable Park Soojin has stepped into the room with some kind of marble statue standing way too close to her.

  
Not that he’d spoken to her about that night a week ago when they’d kissed in her kitchen.  He’d added her to his accounts and she’d invited him to play a few rounds of Overlook.  They’d talked about anything but the bruises, faded to yellow, on his thighs.

  
“Yah, that’s here,” Saeran whispers into his beer can and Yoosung pretends he wasn’t just scowling at Soojin’s back.

  
Yoosung shrugs.

  
Zen leans over, shoulder brushing Yoosung’s as he squints at her and whistles through his teeth. “Sorry about your boner,” he snorts.

  
“Shut up,” Yoosung grunts into his own beer.

  
Zen laughs. “I mean she traded up, you know that dude she’s with?”

  
Yoosung shakes his head.  He’s trying his very best not to notice the guy’s muscles moving under his shirt.  Trying very hard to forget the way Zen had come up behind him while he was getting dressed and squished his belly together to make it talk when Saeran had gotten to their apartment. 

  
“Oh man, I am sorry,” Zen laughs again. “I mean he’s a trainee but I’ve got a friend in the company says they’ve already got a spot in a group for him.  Basically ready to debut.”   
Saeran snorts and bumps his shoulder. “Fuck, you ain’t competition for an Idol Yoosung-ah, sorry.”

  
Yoosung ignores them. He watches Soojin smiling beatifically at Jumin from behind a bottle of water, arm pressed against the man next to her.  He watches the way her pastel pink varsity jacket falls off one arm, the way she shifts her weight from one brightly coloured hightop to the other.  The bright blue of her fingernails when the man she’s with tugs her hand into his and spins her around.

  
He tries not to let his chest puff out when she shoves him with both hands on his broad chest while he laughs.

  
The thing about Han Jumin’s parties were, they mimicked the kind of party Yoosung would rather be at.  His investors, the people who made it possible for Jumin to sponsor people like Yoosung and Soojin, liked to rub shoulders with the common kids who competed. Yoosung was supposed to look like he was having fun, supposed to be letting loose before his training started.

 

But he couldn’t even pretend tonight.  Kim Yoosung was stood in the back of the room, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid, watching Soojin stand with her personal Adonis laughing while he tried to cajole her into dancing by gyrating his hips and shrugging his shoulders lazily.

  
He watches the pink in her cheeks as she throws her head back and shoves the brick wall next to her again.  Pretends he doesn’t watch the way her thighs press at the rips in her black skinny jeans.  Pretends she didn’t make eye contact with him.

  
“You’re going to talk to her at some point, right?” Zen says when he comes back with another beer and Yoosung silently curses that Zen has the self-control to actually drink at this thing.   
He shrugs.

  
“Fucking Pussy,” Saeran snorts. 

  
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow online,” Yoosung sighs, “whatever, it’s fine.”

  
“Fine?”

  
Yoosung’s head snaps up.  Soojin smiles down at him, bouncing on her toes she jerks a thumb towards the guy she’d arrived with. “Finally found someone to watch the puppy, what’s going on.  Is this where the cool kids pretend they’re too good for the school dance?” 

  
“What?” The three of them manage.

  
Soojin only smiles wider. Behind them they can see the man she’s come with dancing with one of the other team members. “Nam Taewon?” She offers, “He’s kind of like a puppy, always wants to jump around, but he’s on break right now so I thought I treat him to a party that can’t get him in trouble.”

  
“So he’s your boyfriend then?” Zen asks and Yoosung wants to climb inside his empty beer can inside his hand.

Soojin snorts. “God no.  Are you kidding he’s exhausting.  We went to school together, used to play LOLOL in the computer lab, still do sometime.” She frowns at Yoosung, “he was the Viper on our team yesterday?”   
  
Yoosung’s mind swims, he remembers the blue tinted sniper character and her player responding to Soojin’s barked orders with monosyllabic grunts as she’d rushed forward with her shield popped.  He also remembers the way she’d yelled at him,  _ the fucking giant monkey how did you miss the giant monkey, get your hand out of your pants and fucking do your job. _

Yoosung feels a bit of tension drain from his shoulders as Soojin pushes her way between him and Saeran.  The four of them watching Nam Taewon with Kim Yumi in the small area where a few brave souls attempt to dance to the pop music playing.  Saeran whistles sharply through his teeth. 

“If you’re not dating him can I.” 

Soojin chuckles. “Unfortunately Tae’s the token heterosexual.”

“A waste,” Saeran sighs and Soojin nods her head in commiseration.

The man in question joins them and Yoosung is almost surprised to find that he’s a nice guy.  He laughs easily with Zen and Saeran and compliments him on his play.  “Thought about going pro once,” he laments into his water bottle, “but then I got recruited and Soojin always crushed me.”

“N-no,” Yoosung tries, “you’re really good she’s just-”

“I’m  _ what _ ?” Soojin smirks.

Yoosung shrugs, tilting his empty beer can to his lips and mumbling  _ confusing _ .

“Nah,” Taewon shakes his head, “Noona studied your plays, she kicked my ass every time.  I could barely keep up with you two the other day.  I’ll be a better Idol than I would have been a pro gamer.”

Yoosung does his best to look at Soojin in his peripheral, the smirk on Saeran’s face suggesting he’s not a subtle as he thinks.  He doesn’t let it bother him.  Soojin isn’t looking anyway, eyes busy looking away from Yoosung, tilting the water bottle to her lips to try and hide her blush.

“Yah, Nam Taewon, do you see the clock?” She announces as he starts into another story about them skipping classes to watch Yoosung compete, “Don’t you have a curfew?”

“I don’t think-” he starts.

“Don’t want to tarnish that perfect record and disappoint your hyungs,” she continues, her fingernails digging crescents in his biceps as she drags him away.

He laughs, eyes scrunching into crescents as he waves goodbye.

*

This is when things get tough.  Yoosung is up with Zen, before the sun rises fully in the sky.  He’s showered and dressed and on a bus to the space Han Jumin keeps for the team to meet and practice.  His school friends don’t get it.  Zen doesn’t get it.  The twins do but the way they smile suggests they don’t care.  

He spends hours with his team as they work through which combination of player and hero works best.  Yoosung ends up as their healer and Soojin mans the tank.  The rest of the team argue over which damage hero combination works best with Yumi settling on a role as off-healer without being asked.  They play a few more rounds, Yoosung makes notes of strategies that work for them.  He makes notes of offensive plays he wants to try as a team.  

The alarm on his phone sounds and he packs his bag.  He has one class in the afternoon, he’s supposed to meet his sister and her family for dinner and then he’ll come home to play more Overlook on his own, practice his healer role with PUGs. 

Sleep isn’t really a priority, not yet, not until he feels confident in his own strategies, in his ability to adapt.  That’s what Soojin had told him, he figures, he’d lost to her because he couldn’t adapt.  Soojin can adapt. The twins join him briefly but even they tap out after a series of texts with increasingly ridiculous misspellings of the word  _ sleep. _

It’s close to 2am when the invite comes through.  A party invitation from Soojin’s personal account along with a private voice server.  Yoosung joins.  They made a good team but maybe if they played together more often her ability to instinctively react would rub off on him.

“S’late,” she says when he connects.

“No classes tomorrow,” he explains.

“Practice in the morning though,” she laughs.

“Sleep after, it’s fine.”

“Yoosung-ssi,” she scolds.

“ _ You’re _ still up,” he points out.

“I slept all afternoon, I didn’t have classes this afternoon.  This isn’t about me.”

Soojin queues them up for random matches and they play a few rounds, Soojin laughing and teasing him until it all starts to fade into the background.  Just more ambient sounds like the gunfire and the reactive voice lines the other players use.  Yoosung starts to nod off while he plays.

His head dipping, chin resting on his chest, controler loose in his hands until he hears Soojin grunt something about healing and his head pops up hands tighten, he heals her.  Eventually even that is muscle memory and Yoosung doesn’t even register if they’re in the longest match in recorded Overlook history or if he’s just nodded off during the matchmaking process.

He’s entirely on autopilot until Soojin whispers something low into her mic and his head snaps up because surely he didn’t just hear what he thinks he heard.  Surely  _ that _ was a dream.

But then she says it again.

“I just think it’s a little too phallic, she definitely fucks her staff.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“Oh,” Soojin chuckles. “ _ That _ you heard.”

He scans the screen and notices Soojin’s HP bar empty. “Uh sorry?”

“I  _ told _ you to go to sleep,” she laughs.

“I’m fine,” he insists through a yawn.

“Ok, well then entertain me, I’m spectating you and I gotta know.  Do you think she fucks her staff?”

Audibly swallowing Yoosung grips his controler tight in his hand. “I uh, I haven’t thought about it?”

“Hmm,” she hums. “What about A.Ce, you think she ever jerks it in her mech?”

“W-what?” He chokes and Soojin cackles in his ear when he accidentally sets off his super.

“You  _ have _ !” She giggles.

“ _ Noona _ ,” he whines, “please, I’m trying to pay attention.”

“No you’re not,” she snorts. “You’re falling asleep.  I’m keeping you up.”

“You’re distracting me,” he shoots back.

“You know,” she says, her voice dropping and he watches as her character disconnects, “you were totally jealous last night.”

“I  _ wasn’t _ ,” he yelps.

“Hmm, no you were, I saw the way your face dropped when you saw Tae.  It was cute.”

“I wasn’t,” he pouts.

“You kind of hated him huh?” She teases.

“I didn’t,” he mumbles.

“It was cute,” she continues. “My pet was jealous.”

He whines.  

“Hey don’t stop playing,” she says suddenly.  “The Jumper is streaming I’m watching, keep playing Yoosung.”

“Okay?” he says.

“You should switch to your mouse, it’s more accurate,” she continues and he doesn’t question her.  Just unplugs his controler and moves to use his mouse.  “Good Boy,” she coos and he’s not sure how she can tell.

Srill he feels the warmth curl in his belly at the praise and continues playing.

“You tried so hard to be casual Yoosungie,” she says softly, “a good boy even though you were jealous.”  He swallows the sound that starts to thrum in his throat, heals the tank that replaced her. “You were so cute, practically crushed the can in your hand when your friend asked if he was my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t,” he simpers.

“Hmm,” she sings, “So you didn’t want to mark me when I said he wasn’t?  Kind of looked like you wanted to.”

This time he can’t swallow the keening sound that claws it’s way out of his throat.

“God, you’re so cute.”  She whispers. “You see that ledge to the left.  You can get your whole team from there.”

“Ye-yeah,” he says nodding.

“The other night was fun,” she says as he moves to the ledge. “A shame you were such a jerk or I might have let you stay.”

“I uh,” he stammers, his heart pounds against his ribcage and he struggles to figure out what he thinks is going to happen as he shifts his hips.

“Good I can see you in frame still too.” She says more to herself than him. “You were a good boy yesterday though, and this morning.  You’ve been so good. Is your roommate home?”

Yoosung’s mind reels, “Z-Zen?” he stammers, trying to decide what she might want with him. “He’s, he has a shoot in the morning so he stayed at a friends.”

“Hmm,” she hums, her voice dropping, “good, I want to hear you.”

He swallows, his dick twitches, “H-hear me.”

“Mmm yeah. Do you think you can heal while you jerk off, Yoosung?”

“W-what?”

“Yes or no pet,” she says.

Yoosung drops one hand in his lap, presses his palm against his growing erection and swivels the camera with his mouse, fires off a small heal and nods to himself. “I- yeah? Maybe?”

“As long as you pull your weight with your team I want you to jerk off ok?” She says, “As a reward for being so good.”

Yoosung whines and drags his palm across his cock through his pants.

“But if it looks like you’ve lost track of your team I’m going to make you stop.”

“Uh huh,” he manages gripping himself through his pants.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Noona.”

“Okay,” she chirps, “and you have to be loud, I want to hear you.”

“Uh huh,” he grunts, shoving at the waistband of his sweats until it sits low enough for him to pull his dick out.

“Yoosung someone is in need of healing.”

“Sh-shit!” Soojin chuckles, light and airy as he whirls around to point his staff at their tank and fire off a heal.

“Good boy,” she coos and there’s something clipped about the way she says it.  

He slips his hand loosely around his length, thumb circling his tip to collect the bead of precum before he pumps himself, fist loose and teasing as he softly whines.

“Yoosung,” she says softly and he can hear the nerves in her voice for a moment before she asks, “send me a picture?”

“W-what?” he stammers.

“If you want,” she adds.

He pumps himself loosely, tosses out a few more heals, lets out a few soft whimpers as he does and considers, “Y-yeah,” he stammers, “o-okay.”

He heals his team again, just to be safe and fumbles around his desk for his phone.  He’s only done this once before but he leans back, tucks his sweats under his balls and snaps the picture.  He sends it to Soojin and immediately deletes it from his camera roll before he goes back to the game.  

He has to double his efforts to pull their tank back from the brink of death, the enemy team is full on assaulting them now and he can hear Soojin chuckling in his ear.

“Wow,” she sighs, “Baby are you still touching yourself?”

“Everyone was dying,” he groans.

“They’re ok now,” she says, “I want to hear you. Your dick is so pretty baby, I want to hear you touching it.”

Yoosung whines softly and reaches between his thighs, he cups his balls squeezing gently before he moves to stroke himself.  Leaning forward slightly to watch his screen carefully.  Struggling not to close his eyes as whimpers and moans spill past his lips.

“Where’s your desk Pet?  Are you jerking off in the living room?”

“Y-yeah,” he huffs, his cheeks hot when he realizes.  Yes, he is jerking off in the middle of his shared living space.  Zen might be away but he could come home.  He could catch him.  He sobs out a broken moan.

“Mmm, you like the idea of being caught Baby?” She teases.

He whines, moans hiccuping past his lips, his heals shaky and barely on target.

“Do you have toys?” she muses.

He’s not sure if she’s asking him or simply wondering allowed but his mind goes instantly to the small vibrator and plug tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.  He whimpers again.  The sounds he’s making increasing in pitch as they bubble past his lips.

“Are you close Pup?” She hums and he manages a pleading sound between groans. “You can’t cum until the match is over.”

His voice catches in his throat and he nods before he realizes she can’t see him. 

“Did you hear me?”

“Y-yes, hng, yes Noona.”

“Good boy.” She coos, “Do you think you can do that?  Do you think you can control yourself, it’s not that much longer.”

“Uh mmmphf, uhhuh,” he grunts.

“You’re doing so well,” she coos as he fires off another shaky heal at their DPS. “So good for me, Yoosung.”

He’s teetering on the edge as he loosens his grip, he circles the tip of his cock with his palm and his hips flex in an attempt to seek more friction.  He’s so close the warmth in his belly a flame that threatens to consume him but the match is almost over.  He can hear Soojin counting down the seconds between praises.

“You’re doing so good Baby,” she croons, “you sound so pretty, just a few more seconds.

The words Victory flash blue across his screen and he doesn’t wait to see the play of the game replay as he tightens his fist and strokes fast.  His voice coming out in sobs as he curls around himself, hips thrusting into his fist.  He almost screams when he cums, his voice high and needy, his forehead pressed to the cold wood of his desk and Soojin whispering praise in his ear between soft giggles.

“Wow,” she breaths.  

“Hmm?” he tries, chest heaving as he pats the top of his desk in search of tissues.

Soojin chuckles. “God you got play of the game while you were jerking off.”

“W-what?” he stammers, giving up and wiping his hand on his sweats.  He scrolls through the feed of people congratulating him.

“God,” Soojin whines.

“ _ What _ ?” 

“Go to bed Yoosung,” she sighs.  

He stares at the screen as she disconnects from the chat.  His breathing steadies and his heart beat slows as his phone vibrates on his desk. When he picks it up there’s a text from Soojin, just below the picture of his dick are five words that make his heart start to pound again.

[UnnieBunnie]: Can I buy you lunch?


	7. Chapter 7

Yoosung did sleep, he swears he did.  He took a shower and went right to bed and definitely didn't think about the way Soojin had called him baby.  He definitely didn't think about the way she'd sounded almost impressed when he'd sent her that picture.

 

He'd definitely gone right to sleep and hadn't overthought anything that had happened between the two of them up to this point. 

 

The fact that he can't stop yawning right now is completely unrelated.

His phone buzzes halfway through their third round of some local co-op 2v2 on a private server that no one but Yoosung knows Saeyoung hosts.   _ Team Building _ Min’gyu insists.  He and Soojin vs Yumi and Junseo.  He doesn’t miss how Soojin’s eyes shift to where her phone rests on her knee.

He snorts when he hears her mutter  _ Mom’s calling  _ in his direction.

They take turns, shake up the groups, figure out each other’s weakness and discuss ways to cover them.  They run a few quick rounds on their personal accounts before Junseo begs out, claiming class and everyone starts to pack it in for the day.  Yoosung is halfway out the door, palming the phone in his pocket when fingers dig into his sides and he yelps in protest before he doubles over, panic reflex betraying him with a stifled giggle.

“Ticklish,” Soojin teases, releasing him.

“I’m not,” he whines.

“Uh, huh,” she smirks.

“I sneezed,” he insists.

“Pollen,” she nods solemnly before a smile splits her face and she links her pinky with his. “Lunch?”

“I gotta call Jumin-ssi,” Yoosung says.

“Me too,” Soojin nods, “after lunch.”

“But-”

“Fuck Mama Han,” Soojin sings, linking her hand in his properly and tugging him behind her.

He wants to protest.  Jumin called them both so it was probably important,  _ business _ .  Jumin never called to check in.  He opens his mouth but her hand tightens on his and she throws him a blinding smile over her shoulder.  The short hairs falling out of her ponytail are wild around her face, one wing of her eyeliner is smudged.

He kind of wants to take a picture of her.  One of those cliche travel photos of his hand being pulled along behind her.  Kind of wants to remember the way her patched khaki military jacket blows in the breeze, the way the tattoo choker contrasts her skin and the freckle exactly between it and her ear.  He wants to remember ripped jeans and ugly sneakers and wry smiles as she gripes at him for dragging his feet. 

She tugs him into a convenience store and like a whirlwind, in the time it takes Yoosung to pull out his wallet and consider his budget Soojin has bought, paid for and is heating their lunch in the store microwave.  She hands him a bag and carries the doshirak herself.

“Come on,” she smiles walking backwards, ducking into an alley.

Yoosung jogs to catch up as she disappears out the other end of the alley.

“Hey!” he pants, pushing himself to catch up.

The alley opens into a park.  He glances around for a moment before he finds her sitting on the edge of a water feature peeling the plastic off the doshirak. “Slow poke,” she teases, reaching for the bag.  She balances the steaming lunch box on her lap and rummages around handing him a pair of chopsticks as he sits cross legged on the grass in front of her.

“Oh, I like you like this,” she says around a piece of meat while Yoosung picks at the vegetables.

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“At my feet.”

Yoosung chokes, kimchi lodged firmly in his sinuses as he gags and coughs.  Soojin steadies their lunch on her lap and pats him on the back, doing her best not to laugh at him.

“You can’t,” he wheezes, “we’re in  _ public _ ,” he pants.

She cracks a bottle of brother’s soda and hands it to him, shrugging.  “No one is looking at  _ me _ .”

She’s right, a few other people sit in the park, one or two eating lunch, some of them frowning at him.  He blushes. “Fine,” he mumbles.

She leans forward, lips brushing already burning cheeks as she snatches the bottle out of his hand. “Cute,” she says softly and sits back.

Their lunch consists of a shared doshirak, eel kimbap, and a box of binch cookies.  They laugh, rather Soojin laughs, often and freely and Yoosung finds himself smiling up at her.  Smiles at the way her fingers grip the dish on her lap before her shoulders curl forward and she rocks with the force of it.  He doesn’t mind being the butt of most of her jokes, he’d even venture to say he enjoyed it.  

Mostly because he enjoyed the sound of it, the sight of it.  

He’s been friends with Saeyoung long enough to anticipate when people are trying to get a rise out of him.  He’s been friends with Saeyoung so long that he’s gained a well practiced defencive ability; he can shut off, he knows when not to respond except... every reaction he gives earns a bright smile and the rocking hook of her body, a pin prick of light through the leaves in an eclipse, growing and curving to reflect the light in his day to day life.

So maybe he reacts when he usually wouldn’t.

So what?

When they’ve finished, sides sore with laughter, cheeks sore with smiles, Yoosung gathers their garbage and wanders away to find the trash bin.  He finds Soojin laying back on the stonework, one foot on the ground, the other bent on the ledge, arms thrown over her face to shield her from the sun.  She inhales through her nose when she hears him approach. “I guess we should see what Mom wants.”

It’s rare Yoosung finds himself in the office of the C&R heir.  Usually Jumin would meet with him in one of the boardrooms.   _ My office is for people who need to be reminded who they’re dealing with _ he’d told Yoosung once.  

Maybe they shouldn’t have made him wait.

Han Jumin frowns at the expensive watch on his wrist and Yoosung tries not to think about how many months of rent it could pay for as the older man releases a heavy sigh. “I called the two of you four hours ago.”

“We were busy,” Soojin shrugs.

Yoosung stares at his hands in his lap.  A habit from his childhood.  Accept that he was being scolded, wait for it to finish, look sufficiently regretful and try not to have this conversation again.

“In the age of cellular telephones,” Jumin begins, “one should never be so busy as to be entirely out of contact for  _ four _ hours.”

Soojin, Yoosung was coming to learn, did not take a tongue lashing idly.  In his peripheral he can see the way her shoulders square.  Without the sting of assumed hostility Yoosung can see her take a figurative defensive stance.

Her voice is syrup when she speaks. “Jumin Oppa,” she coos, lips pouted, eyes big, “we’d made lunch plans for after the team meeting.”

Jumin’s eyes shift between them, he opens his mouth and Yoosung’s shoulder curl forward in anticipation of further scolding but Soojin’s honeyed voice cuts in.

“I thought,” she continues, finger tapping her bottom lip as her brow furrows in the guise of concentration, “I mean when  _ we _ went to lunch the first time,” she pauses and Yoosung doesn’t miss the twitch of her lips. “It’s only that you told us to learn to get along, and at our lunch you put your phone on silent.”

Jumin crosses his arms loosely and Yoosung watches with awe as the man in front of him visibly shifts from angry to mildly frustrated. “I realize-” he begins.

But Soojin isn’t finished. “You said that phones were a distraction, and that  _ in business nothing is more important that the person sitting across from you. _ ”

“That’s not-”

“Oppa,” she croons, and Yoosung can’t help the bit of a smile on his downturned face. “I thought that’s what you wanted?”

Jumin sighs and sinks into his chair.  “Have you heard of a game called Unbelievable Tournament?” he asks changing the subject.

They nod.

“How familiar are the two of you with this game?”

Yoosung frowns, “I play it with the twins sometimes.”

Soojin makes a noncommittal noise.

“There is a tournament overseas,” Jumin begins, “you have been invited to the qualifying rounds as a team.  I am told it’s something of a niche these days but-”

“The two of us competing in 2v2 is good press for the OLC team,” Yoosung finishes.

“Indeed,” Jumin nods.

“When?” They ask together.

Jumin smiles and clasps his hands on the desk in front of him, “Qualifying is next Wednesday, when you make it through you will be required to attend in person in two weeks.”

Yoosung pulls his phone from his pocket and begins to look through his schedule.  “I have to talk to my professors but I don’t think I’ll have any conflicts.”

Both men look to Soojin, reclined so that only the back two legs of her chair are still on the floor she shrugs.  “Is it gonna cost me anything?”

“As your sponsor, travel and accommodations will be covered, and you will both be given an allowance for meals and local transportation,” Jumin recites from their contracts.

She finger guns as her chair drops back to it proper, four on the floor, position with a crack against the marble tile. “Sign me up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a little short but next chapter should make up for it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw/public sex acts

Yoosung is the one to tell the team.  He sends out an apologetic message to the group text, the response is teasing encouragement, and a  [ nonchalent gif ](https://media.giphy.com/media/rumR5iFBxFjdC/giphy.gif) from Soojin.  They make plans to make plans after the qualifying.  

[YumiYumiYumi]: It’s fine, we’ll practice around your schedule, a week won’t kill us.   
[SupermanYoosung]: I just don’t want this to hurt our efforts.   
[UnnieBunnie]: I have a meme for that too

Things between them slow down.  Between their team meetings, and school Yoosung, more often than not, finds himself with his laptop sitting on Soojin’s sofa, or at his desk with Soojin set up in his bean bag chair while they worked on their strategy for the Unbelievable qualifying.  They order take out more often than not, with Yoosung swearing he’s going to cook next time, but there’s never time.

The Pizza guy continues to stare forlornly past Yoosung when he answers the door, and Yoosung finds he can make himself appear very large when he feels threatened.

They hold hands sometimes, walking to the bus stop after the team meetings or standing on Soojin’s balcony after she feeds her strays.  Sometimes she kisses his cheek before he leaves, sometimes their hugs last long enough that Zen’s eyebrows become one with his hairline.  Yoosung tries not to think too much about it.

He tries to just enjoy the warm feeling that envelopes him when she answers the door, or the static feeling in his limbs when she’s near, it all becomes a pleasant ambient buzz, part of being around Soojin.  In the same way that everything shakes just a little when he’s around Saeyoung, or the slight smokey smell around Zen, the soft hum of music that followed Saeran everywhere.

They breeze through qualifying with an ease that almost makes Yoosung worry.

When Soojin shows up to the airport followed by actual Adonis Nam Taewon Yoosung barely even notices the hint of jealousy over the pleasant buzz of being near her.  They both wear masks over their faces and Yoosung can see the hand drawn bunny nose and whiskers on Taewon’s, he can hear them arguing playfully as the approach.

“Yah, don’t die in a plane crash, Noona,” Taewon mutters dropping her bag over her shoulder.

“Ungrateful,” she laughs tugging him down by his ears and pressing mask covered lips to his forehead and shoving him hard.  “Where would you be without me?”

“In bed,” he grunts hugging her.  He offers a wave in Yoosung’s direction, “Good luck, Superman, don’t let her push you around, yeah?”

Soojin bumps her unencumbered shoulder against Yoosung and hooks her pinky around his, “Don’t tell him what to do,” she laughs, “maybe he  _ likes  _ being bossed around you menace.”

Yoosung pretends like he’s not blushing as Taewon shakes his head. 

“I’d love to stay and kinkshame,” he chuckles with an eye roll, “but I’ve got rehearsal,  _ thank god _ .”

Soojin thanks him for giving her a ride and Yoosung watches them yell back and forth until he’s out of earshot.  He remembers when Zen and the twins used to see him off, when everything was knew and none of them could believe anyone would pay for himn to go to other countries to play games.  These days he was lucky if one of them dropped him off at the doors.  It was just another thing that had become routine.

He leads her through security, and customs, and she follows along closely, the quietest he can remember her being. 

“Do you speak english?” she asks him, leaning into his side as they approach their gate.

“I can get by, if you need help,” he tells her.  

“Oh,’ she smiles, “no I was going to offer to translate.”

“Oh, um,” he starts.

“You’re both late.”

Their heads swivel and they meet narrowed dark eyes in a smart pantsuit  .

“Sorry Jaehee-ssi,” Yoosung says with a bow.

“The flight isn’t even boarding,” Soojin comments.

“The schedule Mr. Han provided clearly stated that you were to arrive 2 hours before your flight,” Jumin’s assistant informs her.

Soojin rolls her eyes. “Yah, it’s early, give me a break.”

“It is a 10 hour flight, you will gain 17 hours upon arrival-”

“This sounds like a math problem,” Soojin complains settling into one of the hard plastic waiting chairs.

Jaehee sighs, but Yoosung can see the hint of a smile curl her lips.  “I will inform Mr. Han that you have arrived and you have been briefed.  Would you prefer for me to keep your boarding passes or-”

“What am I?” Soojin complains, “Does Han Jumin think we’re infants?  Jesus.”

Yoosung laughs and this time Jaehee doesn’t hide her smile. Yoosung sits beside Soojin, plugging his phone into the wall and checking for his backup battery packs in his bag.  She hooks her arm in his and rests her head against his arm and he sighs.  He relaxes a little into the contact before he hears the familiar sound of his phone vibrating against the plastic seat.

[UnnieBunnie has tagged you in a tript]

Yoosung opens the photo, Soojin smiling with her knit cap pulled over her hair but her mask pulled down under her chin, thumb hooked to point at him.  His freshly touched up blond hair tucked away from his face under a backwards cap, looking very serious into his backpack.  It’s captioned  _ what do you think @supermanyoosung is looking for _ ?

Yoosung likes the picture and watches the comments roll in.  He likes a few.  _ Chapstick _ , liked.   _ Glasses? _ He didn’t wear them but he liked the comment anyway.   _ Hearts.  Gametoy! Snacks. His charger _ . Yoosung likes all the nice practical comments, even some of the silly ones like  _ a haircut _ , and  _ the meaning of life. _  He likes one or two of the mean ones too,  _ the LOLOL trophy he lost to you _ someone says and he likes it.   _ A life _ , and wow, mood.  He likes that one too.

The he hears Soojin chuckle and mumble  _ jesus _ under her breath.

“What?” he smiles.

She holds out her phone, more comments, more guesses.  _ Condoms _ , oen reads and she scrolls down _ , the vibrator remote _ , his cheeks get hot,  _ the clit _ .

“That’s-  _ god _ ,” he mumbles. “Why does the internet have to be like  _ that _ .”

Soojin laughs. “It’s cute how red you are.”

“M’not,” he mutters, muting the post and texting his mother to remind her he was leaving today, and of the time difference, and to apologize that he didn’t have a schedule yet.  He sends his sister a picture of his packed bag and thanks her for meeting him last minute to colour and cut his hair.

[Kim Yuna]: Don’t know why you made me.  No one can tell under your stupid hat.   
[Kim Yoosung]: It’s not stupid :(   
[Kim Yuna]: Looks like you and your girlfriend both like stupid hats so I’ll let it slide.

“Texting your boyfriend?” Soojin mumbles, resting her hand on his knee.

Yoosung freezes at the contact, takes two quick breaths and tries to relax. “My what? No?  My sister?”

“You don’t sound sure,” she smirks, adjusting so she can look up at him through her lashes.  She’s wearing rose gold horn rimmed glasses, topped with a pearlescent pink and he’s lost for a minute, staring into dark eyes and wondering how many pairs of glasses Park Soojin actually owns.

“My sister,” he mumbles.

Soojin pouts, “Aw, I ship it.  ZenSung is cute.”

“You what?” he squeaks, and the hand on his knee slips up a bit, tucking around his thigh.

“Cute,” she murmurs through a yawn.

They sit in the hard plastic chairs, leaning against one another nodding off as the seats around them fill.  Jaehee sitting across from them diligently working on her phone until they call for the first round to board.  Yoosung shifts and Soojin tightens her grip on him. 

“It’s just first class,” she yawns.

“I know,” Yoosung laughs, “that’s us.”

“Hmm,” she yawns, blinking up at thim.

“Come on,” Jaehee calls.

“Didn’t you look at your boarding pass?” Yoosung chuckles.

“Fuck off,” she mumbles hefting herself and her heavy bag up and out of the seat.

They shuffle forward, dragging their feet against the morning.  Leaving Seoul early today to arrive late yesterday, they way Jumin always seemed to book his travel.  They have their passports ready for the flight attendant and barely halt their steps as they hand them over and are ushered to board.

Yoosung feels himself warm in that familiar comfortable way as Soojin’s hand slips inside his properly.  They watch as Jaehee darts for her seat at the front of the plane and Yoosung smiles behind his mask as he gives her a little tug to the other side of the plane.

“We’re over here,” he says softly and Soojin glances at her ticket and nods before a smile spreads across her face and she darts for their row dropping her heavy carry on in the aisle seat and throwing herself into the window seat.  

He finds the whole thing incredibly endearing.

He tucks her bag under his seat and tucks his own bag in the overhead before flopping into the seat next to her.  The seats are comfortable, as they always are, and Yoosung has brief moment of disbelief that  _ this is normal _ .  First class is something  _ he _ is used to.  

The plane is barely in the air before Yoosung has nodded off, Soojin reaching across the armrest to tangle her fingers with his the last thing he remembers as Seoul disappears below them.

He Yawns and stretches.  The cabin is dim, they’re somewhere over the pacific and at some point, a blanket had been pulled over both he and Soojin.  She’s draped herself over the armrest, one hand tucked between his hip and the seat. He can feel her warm breath through his shirt.

He watches her, just her head sticking out of the blanket, and he thinks that she’s sleeping, laments that his arm is trapped, he doesn’t think he can move it to wrap it around her without jostling and waking her.  So he sits, reclined in his overlarge, plush, first class seat, and he watches the top of her head.

He watches the way her knit hat sits askew over her head, watches the sliver of pink hair that sticks out by her ear. Her other hand reaches out and tangles in his sweater and he relaxes as fingers twitch against his belly until the movement becomes less an erratic twitch and more of a tug.  His sweater bunching in her hand.

“Hmm,” she hums when he tenses, “you’re awake.”

“So are you,” he whispers, her fingers pick at the waist of his sweats.

“Bored,” she says softly, her palm slipping over his sweats, her other hand slips under his shirt and she rubs soft circles into the small off his back.

“I uh,” he stammers, “I brought my gametoy, and my—” he lets out a hiss of air when her palm presses flat against his cock.

“You brought what?” she giggles.

He swallows as her palm slips down his thigh and then up again. “My uh, my t-tablet has some movies.”

She shifts, tilts her head up to look at him, her hand slides up his belly  and then to his chest to tangle in his shirt and she pulls him down into a slightly awkward kiss.  He wraps his arm around her now, fingers squeezing at her shoulder as his lips part easily, urging her to kiss him deeper.  No one was watching them here, sunk into their deep first class seats.  No one knew who they were, surrounded by wealthy businessmen.

Her tongue flicks into his mouth and the hand in his shirt slips back to his thigh.  Her fingers find him half hard through his sweats and her tongue curls around his, sliding in time with the pressure of her hand.  He moans softly against her mouth and he can feel her lips curl against his.

“What games did you bring for the gametoy?” She whispers, voice low and husky.

“Wh-what?”

“I’m  _ bored _ ,” she repeats, “maybe that’s more entertaining than what I’m doing right now.”

“ _ Soojin _ ,” he whines.

“Hmm,” she stops, her thumb playing against his shaft but her hand still, “do you have Flame Ensignia, or Manimal Crossing?”

Yoosung shifts his hips, it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to lift them up, to press himself against her hand and roll his hips. “Noona,” he whimpers, “ _ please _ .”

She smiles at him before slumping back down under the blanket.  He curls around her, fingers pressing deeper into her shoulder as her hand slips into his pants.  He hopes they look like they’re just trying to cuddle.  He wishes he could pull her into his lap, wishes he could be looking up at her as she presses down against him.  She’d fit in this seat, kneeling over him, he knows she would.

“Yoosung-ah,” she says softly, a hint of surprise in her voice, “did you forget something this morning?”

He can feel his ears get hot as her thumb teases his tip, gathering a bead of precum to smooth along the head of his cock. “I, uh, no?”

“ _ Baby _ ,” she coos, “are you telling me you did this on purpose?”

He whines softly as her fingers ghost loosely down his length. “I uh,” he swallows, presses his lips into her hat to distract the sound threatening to loose from his throat. “I packed all my clean ones,” he mumbles into soft grey yarn.

“You’re kinda gross huh?” She chuckles.

“N-no,” he whines. “J-just busy.”

“Mmm,” she considers, tightening her grip just a little as she strokes him. “Still—” she trails off.

Yoosung bites his lips against a moan as she tightens her fist, her strokes slow and even, her thumb teasing lightly behind the rest of her hand.  His fingers tighten on her shoulder again and he presses his face farther into her hat as he whispers out small whimpers and whines.

Then as she twists around his tip she stops and he can’t hide the choked sound he makes.

They freeze, two sets of eyes darting about the cabin but no one is looking at them.

Yoosung whines, “Noona?”

“Baby, good boys do their laundry even when they’re busy,” she scolds.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, pet but still, I think there’s a lesson here,” she coos, her fist still poised at the tip of his dick.

“I-I’ve learned it I pr-hng-mise,” he whispers, voice breaking as she strokes him once.

“Have you,  _ really _ ?”

He nods against the top of her head.

“Alright,” she says, and he knows if he could see her face there would be a wicked smirk gracing her lips. “You can finish.”

“N-noona?”

“Come on Yoosung,” she teases, “you haven’t got all day.”

“ _ Soojin _ ,” he whines.

She clicks her tongue. “You can do it Baby,” She coos. “That’s your punishment for being a dirty boy.”

“Someone will  _ see _ ,” he whines.

“Better be quick then?” she whispers, her fist tight at the end of his dick.

He glances around, before raising his hips experimentally.  No one is looking at them, not even the flight attendants.  Their light is off, the sun is behind them.  Everyone in the cabin is sleeping or trying to.  He bites his lip against a moan and fucks into her fist again.  Doing his absolute best not to be too obvious. To keep as much of his body as still as he can.

Still the idea of getting caught is exciting.  

A whimper escapes his lips as he curls tighter around Soojin laying across the armrest and he can hear her laugh softly. 

“That’s good Baby, you’re doing so good.”

He whimpers, fucking into her fist faster and she starts to move her hand again, meeting his thrusts.  It’s all he can do not to make a sound above a whimper, the lecture he would receive from Han Jumin, or having to hear Jaehee-ssi talk about sex is enough to keep any wanton sound above a whisper trapped between his bared teeth.

“Are you close, pet?” Soojin whispers, squeezing as he pulls away and fucks back into her hand.

He nods.  Not trusting himself to whisper if her tries to speak.

“Are you a Good Boy, Yoosung?” She asks softly.

He nods again.

“You’re going to take care of your laundry properly from now on?”

He nods again.  The coiled spring of his orgasm tight in his groin.

“Good boys cum when they’re told to Yoosung.” Soojin says, voice barely a whisper now.

He whimpers, tries to make some sound of ascent but there’s no sound he can trust himself to make anymore.

“Yoosung,” she says softly, “cum for me.”

He tenses, his toes curl and she strokes him through as he pants and whines into her hat, she strokes him until he’s whining and twitching and quietly whining.  She pulls her hand carefully out of his pants and taps her cum soiled finger against his lips.

He doesn’t hesitate to let his tongue dart between her fingers to taste himself on her.  He watches the way her eyes darken as he sucks the digits into his mouth before she pulls away.  He watches her pull a napkin out of her pocket and wipe her hand up before she stands and shuffles past him to the tiny airplane bathroom to wash up properly.

He’s considers, when he’s done lamenting that he’ll have to clean himself in a tiny airplane bathroom, that at some point.  He’s going to have a lot to make up to Soojin.

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

By the time the pilot announces their decent and the seatbelt light comes on they’ve fallen back asleep.  Yoosung blinks bleary eyes as the soft sound chimes through the cabin and is almost surprised by the weight in his lap.  The blanket wrapped tightly around them, Soojin has climbed over the wide armrest and into his lap. Her knees on either side of his thighs, her body limp, her head resting on his shoulder.

Her lips barley brush his throat when she yawns, her breath warm as if drifts from his neck to his collarbone.  Despite his earlier desire to have her over him like this there is something different, something more intimate than their earlier foray into exhibitionism.  He finds himself feeling warm in a different way at having woken up to Soojin cuddled up to him like a koala bear.

He likes this.

Jaehee hovers around their seats as the rest of the first class passengers disembark.  She updates them on the time, while they pull their things out of storage and Yoosung stuffs his trash into a plastic bag,  She rolls her eyes while Soojin teases him about being tidy and reminds them of their schedule.

They pull their hats and masks back on as they shuffle off to collect their luggage, and Yoosung feels that static tingle when Soojin hooks her pinky through his just before-

“Shit,” Jaehee grunts and there is a shrill chorus of shrieking before Yoosung is surrounded.

Soojin’s eyebrows knit together in what he thinks might be frustration for only a moment before she lets his pinky free and allows herself to be jostled out of the way.  Jaehee holds her phone above the crowd and points at the time.

Yoosung blushes, he tugs his mask down and he tries his best to look like he didn’t just wake up, like he’s not standing in a crowd of shrill strangers in cum stained sweatpants.  Tries to smile and forget that he could be holding Soojin’s hand right now in the back on of an uber while Kang Jaehee drilled their schedules into their heads.

He listens to the fourth broken japanese phrase and resists the urge to scream that he is  _ korean for the love of god, stop calling me onii-chan _ , and just before he finally breaks he sees Jaehee’s phone held above the crowd and her, somehow, bored finger pointing to the time.

“I have to uh, I have to go.  I uh,” the girls let out a collective whine, and his english isn’t good enough to pick out many of the mumbled complaints.  One or two of the girls tug at his sweater.    
“Sorry,” he says, “I have to, uh, m-my hotel.”

He’s barely pushed out of the small crowd before Soojin has him by the hand, the exhaustion he’d felt seconds earlier evaporates until she tugs him a little and his heart flutters.  She quickly and carefully tugs the mask away from his ears and hands him a marker. “Sign it,” she whispers.

And her lips are so close to his ear when she says it he has to resist a shudder.  He can hear the tone of the crowd behind them shift but he does what she says and when he finishes she takes the marker and the mask from him, rests her elbow heavy on his shoulder and flings the mask like a rubber band into the crowd.

They escape unnoticed in the chaos.  Soojin giggling and tugging Yoosung behind her by the hand.

“So,” Soojin says in english, “it just sort of  _ happened _ .”

Yoosung is impressed, he’s been to america many times now, and he speaks english well enough for interviews, well enough to communicate with his international fans, but still he often needs Jaehee there beside him to translate some word or idiom he hasn’t quite grasped.  Soojin speaks fluently.

“You just  _ sort of _ ,” the interviewer chuckles, “ _ accidentally _ , ended up in a LOLOL tournament and fluked into beating the top ranked player your what?  First time out?”

Yoosung likes the woman interviewing them.  She’s interviewed him before, she’s nice, and pretty and has a way of joking about cultural differences or language barriers that puts him at ease.  

Soojin shrugs, and her cheeks pink slightly under the blush they’d applied. Her hair is tousled in a careful mess, she’s wearing her round frames from the tournament, the knees of her jeans have been worn through, and he’s pretty sure that’s  _ his _ purple hoodie she’s wearing.

“And you huh Yoosung?” she asks swiveling her chair towards him.

“Uh what?” He ask sheepishly.

She chuckles. “You didn’t seem happy about the loss at first.  You all but disappeared on social media for a few days but,” she pauses and Yoosung knows from past interviews some kind of image is being overlayed for the viewers as she turns a tablet towards them, “you look pretty close in this fan photo from this morning.”

Yoosung glances towards Jaehee but she just shrugs and makes a moving on motion with her hand.

“Oh uh, Soojin-Noona and I, we uh,” he pauses and glances towards Soojin but she’s relaxed in her seat, watching him with an amused look on her face.  “I’m a sore loser, Jennifer” he says and does his best to seem nonchalant. “But we share a sponsor and we’re both on OLC team Korea now.” Yoosung shrugs casually. “We work well together.”

Soojin smiles. “It was fun to get to know Yoosung-ah,” she rubs her fingers together in feigned nervousness, “to be totally honest I used to be a big fan.  His streams are what got me interested in competing.”

Jaehee raises an eyebrow but Jennifer is hooked she leans in, “Oh,  _ used to _ ?”

Soojin laughs and Yoosung feels the sound vibrate through him.  “Yeah, Jin-ah,  _ used to _ ?” He asks, feeding off the relaxed atmosphere of the interview.

“Well until I realized you were a  _ huge _ nerd,” she smiles wide and sips her iced coffee drink, “kinda killed the sparkle you know?  Also I can kick your ass.”

Jennifer snorts, and then she laughs and all Yoosung can do is smile and shakes his head.

Yoosung  _ was _ a sore loser, and Soojin  _ was _ trying to get a rise out of him and while he might let this turn into some kind of playful argument in private or with their teammates right now, was not the time.  Besides, “She’s not wrong,” he says forcing a smile and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Why would you say she beat you?” Jennifer asks. “We’ve seen the game, we’ve heard the comentarty.  Did being your fan work to her advantage or was there something in her strategy that was just superior?”

Yoosung laughs, it’s a genuine, full laugh that stretches lips over teeth and Soojin rolls her eyes and frowns at him. “No it was definitely not  _ superior strategy _ .”

He can see Soojin huff and posture in her chair but Jennifer leans forward. “So you’re saying it was a fluke, she just had a really good, really lucky, run?”

“Nothing like that, Soojin-ah beat me fair, and by her own,” he pauses searching for the word he wants, fires off a quick inquiry text to Jaehee and continues, “she beat me by her own merit.  It’s just Jin-ah doesn’t, she doesn’t use strategy like the other people I’ve played against. If just watching me play was all it took anyone could really beat me you know?”

“So what are you saying?” 

“Yeah Yoosungie,” Soojin frowns, “what  _ are _ you saying?”

The room laughs softly.

“Soojin-Noona uses strategy until it stops working and then I think she does so well bc she doesn’t have a back up plan, she just,” he struggles again for the english, “I think she does well because even she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

The room laughs louder this time and Soojin frowns and Yoosung takes a breath.  Obviously he had phrased that poorly in english. He holds out a hand and leans towards her switching to Korean, “Yah I think I said that wrong.”

“You think?” she snorts.

“I just meant that you throw strategy out the window so you don’t have an expected outcome.  Can I, how can I say that properly?” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.

Soojin chuckles.

Jennifer looks to Jaehee. “Mr. Kim used the wrong english phrasing,” she explains over their conversation, “he’s apologising to Ms. Park.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks pink. 

“It’s fine,” Jennifer smiles at him.

“What I meant was that Soojin-ah is reactive, when her strategy fails she simply reacts in the moment and she has no uh, um-”

“Preconceived,” Soojin supplies.

“Yeah,” Yoosung nods. “She has no preconceived expectations?  So it’s hard to counter her because it’s hard to uh,” he glances at Soojin, “ to uh,  _ apjilleo hada?” _

“Anticipate,” Soojin translates before Jaehee can.

“Yeah.”

The interview wraps up and they have their photo taken together to go with it.  Yoosung in a big gaming chair with Soojin perched on the arm, or hanging over the back and something about it feels wrong to him.  Diminutive or dismissive he can’t put his finger around it until they sit Soojin on the floor, her elbow resting on his thigh and he shakes his head.

“Can we,” he starts and then freezes when they all look at him, “ _ switch _ ,” he finishes and he feels very small.

Eyebrows raise and Jaehee shrugs at the photographer.

“Sure,” the man behind the camera says, and Yoosung is out of the chair.  They do the same poses, him perched on the arm, leaning over the back. Him on the floor leaning against her legs.

The shoot slows and they stay where they are while the director and photographer try to decide if they have something that might work.  Soojin chugs a bottle of water and throws one leg over Yoosung’s shoulder while he checks his phone. He texts his mom, texts the twins. He likes a few of Zen’s posts on tripter and Soojin folds her hands on top of his head, resting her cheek against them.

Her feet are flat on the floor to either side of him and he tilts his phone to show her the dumb meme Saeyoung had responded with.

“Perfect!”  the director calls, and they both glance up.

“Yeah that’s,” the photographer agrees. “God we shouldn’t have posed them.  This is gold.”

They freeze.

“Ignore me,” the photographer insists, “this is, you’re great like this, just keep doing whatever you were doing.”

Soojin presses her cheek tighter against the top of Yoosung’s head and whispers, “show me the stupid cat again.

They finish their pre-registration and get the finalized schedule for the first day of the tournament, there’s a video conference with Jumin and then dinner with another reporter.  Their rooms are on separate floors, Jaehee and Soojin on the floor below him. So he says goodbye to them as they leave the elevator and waits alone for it to jostle it’s way to his room.

He showers and changes into pajama pants, pulls the gametoy out of his backpack and is just leaning back against the pillows of his rented bed when there’s a knock at his door.

He expects maid service maybe, wonders if he’d ordered room service and forgotten, or perhaps Jaehee had some new information to give him.  Instead he opens to the door to find Soojin smiling and wild eyed with a bag full of american snack food.

“Did you know,” she starts shoving through the door, “that there is an  _ app _ and you can just have some  _ guy _ buy all this stuff and bring it to you?”

Yoosung chuckles.  “Yah, how are you going to eat all this?”

“ _ You’re gonna help me _ ,” she sings dropping it on his bed. “Let’s watch a movie and eat until we feel sick.”

He finds that he can’t really think of an excuse not to.  Soojin finds something on the television, some late night american cartoon and they start with milkshakes and krispy kremes.  They joke and lean against one another talking about nothing and laughing at everything until they’re half way through Soojin’s sugar El Dorado and things drift into a heavy silence.

There’s the laugh track, which Yoosung thinks is weird for an animated show, and the smacking of lips, the rustling of packaging and the longer the silence persists the more Yoosung finds himself flooded with all the over thinking he’d been pushing to the back of his mind all week.

“What,” Soojin asks around the biggest jawbreaker candy Yoosung has ever seen.

“Nothing.

“You look your brain is about to explode out of your eye sockets, what’s going on Sungie?”

He takes a deep breath, he holds it.  He lets the thought roll around for a moment, tries to talk himself into ignoring it, into feigning homesickness, but it sticks to the sides as he does.  He breathes out, sits up straighter and looks her in the eyes.

She squares he shoulders reflexively.

“So,” he starts, “what are we doing?”

Soojin relaxes and smiles, “Eating sweets, and watching truly terrible western programming.”

“No,” Yoosung shakes his head, “that’s not- Jinnie, what are  _ we _ doing?”

“Oh,” she says, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, “you meant the other glaringly obvious answer?”

“ _ Noona _ ,” he whines.

“We’re dating Yoosung,” she laughs, “wasn’t that obvious?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might extend the chapters next week. Not sure if I can wrap this up in once chapter. Maybe an epilogue.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there will be at least a chapter and an epilogue to go.

“Oh.”

There’s not much more he can say.  His face heats up and he turns away from the smile stretching across her lips.  He buries his face in one of the plush hotel pillows and wraps it around his ears so he can’t hear her laughter and then he groans into it.

Of course they were dating.  Of course she’s his girlfriend because if she wasn’t- 

If she wasn’t then she could be with Nam Taewon who looks at her like she’s the sun and the stars and is going to be an idol, or maybe Han Jumin who gives her the kind of fond smiles Yoosung had thought him previously incapable of.  She might even have gone to Kang Jaehee’s much closer room, or flirted with Zen or-

He groans again.  Park Soojin had plenty of options, all of them more qualified and more attractive than a guy she’d publically humiliated.  Of course they were dating because otherwise why would she give him the time let alone-

“ _ Yoosung _ ,”  even muffled through a pillow he can hear the smile in her voice.

“What,” he mumbles through overstuffed down.  

“Are you ok?” He feels one hand rest between his shoulders, fingers tapping gently against his spine like the keys of a piano as the other tugs one of his hands away from the pillow. “Come on,” she coos through a giggle, “you can’t try to die everytime you embarrass yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles rolling onto his back throwing his arm over his face.

She doesn’t move her hand and he likes the gentle weight of it on his chest when he settles.  “Unless I’ve got your dick in my hand?” She teases.

“ _ Noona _ ,” he whines.

She laughs.  Quiet and gentle, it sounds fond and he tries not to tense as her hand shifts, tries not to anticipate where it’s going to go.  Her hand only slips to the side, over his ribs and around his chest as he feels the weight of her body press against his side. “Ok, I realize we’ve never really  _ talked _ about it, but god Yoosung what did you  _ think _ we were doing.”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

“You know I don’t like-” she trails off, fingers tugging to fist in his shirt.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“You know,” she says softly, and she sounds vulnerable, something he’s not used to, “I was a fan.  I was a member of your fanclub and everything.” She snorts, “I had pictures of you on my phone too, you’re really cute.”

She looks up at him, big dark eyes looking nervous beneath her too long bangs and he turns his head, cheeks heating up again as he squeezes his eyes shut. “M’not.”

“Ok fuck off you  _ know _ you’re cute,” she says shifting her head back to stare across his chest.  “It’s just,” she says softly, “that wasn’t the first LOLOL tournament I qualified for.  I’ve qualified before but-”

“But what?” He asks, suddenly interested.

She turns her face into his shoulder and mumbles “you weren’t there.”

“What?”

“Fuck you,” she grunts. “I did one at the start of the season, you were supposed to be there but canceled last minute, I did it under a different name because they thought UnnieBunnie was too suggestive, I placed top ten but-”

“The one in Busan?” he asks quietly.

She nods.

“Yah that was a mess,” he mumbles.

“Everyone was too busy analyzing why you didn’t show, so no one noticed me.”

He sighs. “My Mom was sick, and my parents aren’t really the biggest fans of this so I try to keep them out it but-”

“Zen’s twitter posts, I know.”  It’s Soojin’s turn to sigh. “It’s not how it sounds you know?  I wasn’t, it wasn’t a plot to do  _ this _ , you know?  I just, I wanted to do it and I wanted to meet you?  I thought if I could rank, we’d meet and I could tell you that you inspired me or some other sappy bullshit.  

“Then I did well my first time out and no one cared because you skipped the tournament and there were pictures of you and your roommate to over analyze and then Kang Jaehee contacted me and said if I placed top 3 in my next tournament that C&R would be interested in sponsoring me and,” she laughs, “I guess I kinda wanted to prove something.”

Yoosung relaxes, one hand rests on her hip the other under his head as he listens to her talk.  “Prove something,” he muses.

“Yeah I wanted to beat you, and then you were kind of an asshole about it you know?”

“Sorry.”

He can feel her shrug. “It worked out.  I just needed to get that out you know? I didn’t-”

Yoosung shifts, rolling to his side so that they’re face to face and cups her chin in his palms.  He kisses the end of her nose. “I don’t care,” he mumbles, pressing their foreheads together, “You didn’t have to tell me any of that.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, not looking at him, “I did.  It’s easy to access information, what if a reporter asked you about it and you didn’t know?”

“I’d think it’s cute that my girlfriend wanted to,” he pauses to rub his nose along hers, “how did you put it?  _ Kick my ass _ , before she even met me.”

“Shut up,” she whines, but there’s no heart to it.

“No no, it’s nice,” he chuckles, “I get it, I want to kick my ass too.”

“I hate you,” she pouts.

He kisses her pouting lip, “mood.”

She shoves him and rolls over, chip bags and plastic wrappers crinkling under her, some falling off the bed and Yoosung tries to stifle it, he covers his mouth with his hands and breaths sharply through his nose but he can’t hold it in, he giggles.  It’s bubbly, his eyes scrunch into half moons and his lips stretch over his teeth and his cheeks bunch up to his ears as he smiles and Soonjin glances at him over her shoulder despite herself.

“Yoosung,” she says, trying her best to sound irritated but her eyes smile despite the firm line of her lips.

He rolls onto his stomach and presses his face in the pillow, this time to muffle the sound.  The giggles turn to a full belly laugh that is quickly interrupted by snorts as tears start to form in the corners of his eyes.

“ _ Yoosung _ ,” Soojin says, she tries to make it sound like a warning but he can hear her trying not to laugh too.  Her hands are on his shoulders as she rolls him over and he throws an arm over his face, gasping for breath between laughter. “ _ What _ is so funny,  _ god _ ?”

He takes a moment to compose himself but he can barely get the words out before the giggles take him over again. “You  _ like _ me.”

Soojin pulls his arm away from his face and her eyebrows pull into a frown but the corners of her lips twitch. “ _ Yoosung-ah _ .”

“You’re my  _ girlfriend,” _ he manages with a deep breath.

She smiles. “You’re an  _ idiot _ ,” she mumbles pressing a soft kiss to his lips and settling down over top of him, letting herself slip to one side.

Yoosung presses a kiss to her forehead and mumbles, “I’m  _ your _ idiot,” into her hair.

They fall asleep like that.  Soojin’s arms and legs thrown haphazardly over him, tangled up with his own limbs in his big, fancy, C&R sponsored hotel room.  The lamp still on, the tv still playing terrible late night programming. Neither bothering to move to get under the blankets.

He wakes up to his phone chiming out a text notification, simultaneously cold where his body sticks out beneath Soojin and too hot beneath her.  He can see the city coming to life as the sun crests the horizon and he thinks it’s probably an hour or so before his alarm would have gone off. He gropes for his phone, awake enough to decide to check the message.

[Mom]: Yuna showed me your interview, your english is improved.   
[Kim Yoosung]: Thank you Mom   
[Mom]: Are you busy Yoosung?     
[Kim Yoosung]: It’s early Mom, I was still asleep   
[Mom]: It’s 6am where you are, shouldn’t you be studying before your tournament?   
[Mom]: Nevermind.  The girl you were with in the interview is pretty, do you talk to her often?   
[Kim Yoosung]: Mom, I need to sleep ok?   
[Mom]: Good luck with whatever this is today, I still don’t understand these things.   
[Kim Yoosung]: Thank you Mom

Yoosung drops his phone on the nightstand and stretches his arm to flick off the lamp.  He considers, as he does his best to grab the throw at the foot of the bed with his toes, that his alarm will go off in 40 minutes, Jaehee will be at the door in just under an hour to make sure he woke up and they would have to leave the building in roughly 90 minutes.  He could get up now.

He pulls the blanket up over himself and Soojin, watches the way her nose twitches and her eyebrows draw together before she tucks her face closer to his chest.  He  _ could _ get up now, shimmy out from under her to shower and shave but he could also stay right here.  He could simply close his eyes and tighten his arms around her and enjoy another twenty minutes of this.

“Why are people calling you when it’s still dark outside?” Soojin mumbles not opening her eyes.

“My Mom was wishing me luck,” he says softly, “she thinks everything should be studied for like an exam.”

“Did you get to have  _ any _ fun when you were a kid?”

“In exchange for a lot of guilt,” he chuckles.

Soojin shifts and he wraps his arms tight around her waist. “Yah, Sungie I should go back to my room before the warden wakes up.”

“Jaehee-ssi won’t care,” he mumbles.

“Still I gotta get my things so I can shower.”

“Stay,” he whines, “don’t pretend you don’t steal my clothes.”

“Sung-ah,” she coos, “that hoodie just looks  _ better _ on me.”

“ _ Please _ ,” he whines, lips turning into a comical forced frown as he pouts at her.

She shifts again, not testing the give in his arms and shifts her weight, straddling him now, rather than laying on him she smiles down at him and he blushes, even as his hands slip to rest on her hips. “I could be convinced to stay I think,” she smirks caging him in with her hands on either side of him she bends to trail kisses along the place where his loose tshirt has exposed his collar bones.

He uses all of his willpower to keep his hips still, tilts his head to expose more of his throat to her and allows himself a soft whimper as she rocks down against him.  It’s not like he’s the only guy who wakes up hard, he tells himself as his cheeks pink. She makes a soft noise into the crook of his neck and he finds his voice. “Tell me what to do.”

A soft hum of approval vibrates along his jaw as she trails kisses there. “Mmm, that’s my good boy,” she praises him, voice husky with sleep.

“Noona,” he whimpers, not stopping his hips from canting forward.

“Come on pet,” she drawls, “convince me.”

It’s all the encouragement he needs.  Yoosung bends his knees behind her and uses the leverage to switch their positions.  He has very little experience with sex, he’s done it more than once with mixed reviews but Kim Yoosung knows his strengths.  He presses her back against the pillows with a kiss, her mouth opening easily as he teases his tongue against the roof before pulling away.

He smirks at the soft whine as he leans away from her, revels in the gasp that follows when he tugs her loose sleep shorts off in one swift move.

“Jesus,” she says through a breathy laugh as he settles himself between her thighs.  

Yoosung kisses behind her knee before he tucks one leg over his shoulder.  He trails kisses and bites along her thigh, stopping to suck a mark whenever she makes a particularly sinful sound.

“God Yoosung,” she sighs, her hand brushing through his hair, “ _ please _ .”

Something about hearing  _ her _ beg for  _ him  _ spurs him on in his teasing and he trail kisses along her soft belly, over her round hips, he digs his teeth into the meat of the thigh resting on his shoulder and presses his fingers into the other to keep her from bring them both around his ears.

He teases her until the hand combing softly through his hair tangles and fists and tugs him back to look up into her eyes.  Pupils blown, face flush with arousal. Her shirt pushed up so that the curve of her breasts teased beneath bunched fabric. “Yoosung-ah,” she says, tongue darting out to wet her lips, “stop fucking around.”

She doesn’t give him time to reply before she pushes his head down, he lets her.  Let his breath fan out across her mound as he teases his thumb along her slit. Soojin makes a soft sound and he bends his head, her fingers loosening to give him more room to maneuver as he presses a gentle kiss to her clit.

She sighs, her fingers tighten in his hair for a moment and then a gasp as his thumb dips between her folds.  He drags his tongue along, dipping shallowly into her a few times before continuing on to lap and suck at her clit.  She writhes against him, and he buries his nose in dark curls as he teases circles around her clit.

Her other leg joins the first over his shoulder and Yoosung lets it stay as he sucks and licks at her, enjoying the pressure of his head firm between her thighs as she rolls her hips against his face, slick from chin to nose as she squirms against him.  He likes the tight feeling of being trapped there, his breath restricted by her pussy but it’s not soon before he finds himself smirking as his tongue fucks into her and he presses one hand firm against her errant thing to press it back to the bed.

“God,” she groans, and he ventures a glance up, her head thrown back so that all he can see is the jut of her chin beyond the swell of her breasts.  “How are you so fucking good at that,” she almost whines.

“Studying,” he mumbles as he slips two fingers inside of her.

“Sh-shit,” she curses, hips canting up.

Yoosung lets his own rut down against the mattress, it’s not what he wants the friction feels good nonetheless as he press the flat of his tongue against her clit and crooks his fingers inside her.

She makes a strangled sound when he finds her g-spot, hips bucking up to crush his nose against her pelvis. “Fuck, fuck, pet don’t stop.”

He smiles against her as the praise turns to begging before desolving into broken moans.  He feels her tighten around his fingers as she cums, he keeps his pace until she stills. Her palms pressing weakly against his forehead as he rolls his hips against the mattress.

“Jesus Christ Kim Yoosung,” she pants, tugging him up, “I have to stay now, I don’t think I can walk.  What the fuck do you study?” Yoosung laughs. “Who’s the tutor?” She continues between pants.

Yoosung wipes his face on his sleeve and she shoves at him, “Yah, that’s gross, wash your face like a grown up.”

He leans in to run his lose along hers while she playfully shoves at him, “Hmm, Noona?  You won’t kiss me after that?”

She protests weakly, letting him kiss her as she smooths the knots out of his hair and laughing softly against him when he presses himself against her thigh with a whimper.  She reaches between them to grip him through his sweats. “You’ve been so good,” she mumbles quietly hooking her fingers into his sweats. 

“R-really?” he stammers as she shoves them down his hips.

“Mmm, yeah,” she nods hooking her heels together behind his hips.  “Do you think you’ve earned a reward?”

“P-please,” he whispers as she urges him on, digging her heels into the cleft of his ass.

The slide is easy and Yoosung moans, long and low as he bottoms out.

He has a moment to consider that he doesn’t think he can last very long, has a moment to consider that perhaps he should have gotten a condom first before he pulls back and slowly thrusts back into her.  One hand slips up under her sleep shirt to cup a warm soft breast as she sighs before-

“Ms. Park seems to be much more punctual than you Mr. Kim I assume she’s already-” Jaehee freezes in the doorway where she’d been busy fumbling with a stuck zipper on her briefcase. “Oh for fucks sake,” she grunts, closing the door and turning to face it, keeping her back to them. “We do not have time for this.  You have a breakfast interview in 15 minutes, kindly disentangle yourselves and get ready.”

Yoosung is already pulling out and shuffling back, pink from chest to cheeks while Soojin blushes and laughs softly under her breath.  He tugs his sweats back up as Soojin tugs her shirt down and slips out of bed to find where he’d thrown her shorts. “Sorry Jaehee-ssi,” they say almost in unison, neither of the three making eye contact.

Jaehee makes an indignant sound while Soojin mumbles to herself  _ did he have to throw them so far _ .

“I will meet you in the lobby,” Jaehee mumbles to the door, still not turning towards them as Soojin shimmies into her shorts and Yoosung gathers his things for a shower. “I will take this time to inform Mr. Han that a third room was unnecessary.”

Soojin barks a laugh as the door slams behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it's Yoosung who's left wanting.
> 
> Also firmly believe that regardless of his partners genitalia Kim Yoosung is a champion of oral.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not get as far with this as I wanted but I'm going to post the rest of this fic as I finish it rather than on Wednesdays.

There’s an interview over breakfast and then conference call in the back of their uber where a strangely smug Jaehee explains over the phone to Jumin that she will be canceling the reservation on Soojin’s room for the remainder of the weekend.  Yoosung is relieved when she explains with a simple “Mr. Han if you do not understand why Park Soojin’s room was superfluous then I am afraid there is nothing I can do to help you. Ever”

Another round of pre tournament interviews and Soojin hands her hotel room keys to Jaehee who leaves to  _ take care of this. _

They sit awkwardly separate, the realization that they will need to announce to their viewers that they’re dating seeming to hit them simultaneously and while it’s obvious their American interviewer recognizes the strange charge to the air he does not comment.  Yoosung tells him that he’s confident that between his technical ability and Soojin’s ability to improvise they should do well despite not having competed as a team before.

“What about your familiarity with the game?” The interviewer inquires as Yoosung watches the timer tick down.

“We’ve both played casually,” Soojin offers. “We communicate well, I don’t think the fact that we’re not regulars on this particular circuit will hurt our chances.”

Her english is  _ so good _ , he finds himself thinking.  Her lips are so pretty stretching around the unnatural syllables he thinks watching her mouth as she talks. His fingers twitch in his lap with the urge to take her hand but he resists.  The interviewer is smiling knowingly at him when he realizes it’s his turn to speak. “Ji-” he starts and corrects himself. “Soojin-ah is right. We’ve been working as a support team practicing for OLC and at least on a personal level my friends treat every competitive game like we’re being televised, doing this against strangers is nothing compared to playing against a set of twins who know your deepest darkest secrets.” 

Soojin raises an eyebrow at that, one corner of her mouth twitches into a smirk and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

The interviewer winds down their interview and says his goodbyes, he shakes their hands with a knowing smirk and commends them on their english.  Yoosung smiles tightly and nods and Soojin openly rolls her eyes.

They have 15 minutes to get to the game floor and Soojin manages to tug him into a dark unmonitored corridor.  She shoves him hard against the wall and kisses him. Her knee pressing between his thighs and Yoosung’s lips part with a soft moan, he doesn’t even try to stop himself from pressing against her thigh shamelessly.  She licks into his mouth once before she shifts to trail kisses along his jaw, her hands combing gently through his hair before she pulls away.

He doesn’t even mind that he whimpers.

“We should,” she says, her eyes slightly nervous, “If we do well today we should go live on tripter tonight and tell everyone we’re dating.  That interview was awkward.”

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles pressing his forehead against her shoulder and lazily kissing her neck.

“Yoosungie I’m serious,” she laughs shoving at him.

He nods and moves in slowly to kiss her, still surprised that she lets him.  She keeps it chaste, the warning for gamers to make their way to the games floor sounds and she shoves him gently away from her.  

“Come on,” she coos tugging him back to the crowd.

He’s so used to Zen that he barely registers the phone camera, doesn’t even consider it until they’re sat at their computers, hooking up peripherals while his phone vibrates nonstop. He finishes what he’s doing and checks his phone.  A tagged video, and  _ wow _ a lot of comments on it.

He opens it.  The corner of Soojin’s face is visible along with most of his profile glancing around the crowded lobby with childlike wonder.  It’s just a short 10 second video of them walking, she pans the camera to the crowd and then back to her face, where she flashes a peace sign before it ends. It’s captioned  _ Cheer us on and if we do well we’ll go live with a special announcement! _

He doesn’t bother to look at the comments, not after the airport photo, not just before they compete.  It was hard enough to concentrate after the way she’d let him rut against her, all he wanted to do was get this over with and bury his face between her thighs again, to feel her fingers knotted in his hair as she held him there, and told him what a good boy he was.

Except they would have day one post interviews to do, they would have dinner with Jaehee, and a conference with Jumin, and now a live with their tripter followers.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and glances over to Soojin.  She’s already reclined in her tournament chair with her feet on the table waving to the crowd.  Her smile widens when she catches him watching and he thinks that  _ maybe _ she blushes, just a little, before she winks at him.  Then another time warning plays over the venue speakers and they straighten up get to their ready screens and the games begin.

It’s exhilarating in a way, competing on such short notice with little preparation at a game he’s never played more than casually.  More so because he’s with her. He only recognises one of his competitors and even then that’s one half of a team. He loves this, he thrives on it.  He’s not sure if Soojin can simply read him that well or if they work together on some other level but despite their admittedly strong competition they manage to make it through the first round.

They make it through their obligations; interviews, conference calls, dinner, it all drags along until finally they’re laughing together, hand in hand as they step into their room.  Soojin’s bags neatly sit on the bed. She stretches and yawns and raises her eyebrows.

“I’ll set up the live,” she says.

He nods, changing into loose flannel pants before slipping into the little hotel bathroom to brush his teeth.  He’s halfway through when he hears her sneak around the door.

“Super _ man _ ,” she sings holding her phone so that their viewers can see them both in the mirror. He squeaks, covers his mouth before he spits into the sink, cheeks hot, face red. 

“Jinnie!” He whines.

“Say hello Sungie!” she smiles waving to her phone in the mirror.

“Hello,” he mumbles, embarrassed and feeling slightly on the spot despite having agreed to it.

They make small talk, discuss the days rankings and answer a few questions from their viewers before they tell them.  It’s easy really, someone in the chat trying to be smart makes a joke about how they should just kiss already and Soojin simply rides out the cue.

She wraps an arm around his shoulder and drags him into a kiss, her fingers brushing through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.  She pulls back, eyes bright, smile wide, and presses a quick kiss to his cheek declaring their relationship to the 437 people actively yelling in the chat. 

They answer a few more questions, Yoosung pretends he’s not blushing and they say goodbye.

“Sorry I just thought it would be, you know, cuter or whatever if we looked domestic when we told them.”

Yoosung shrugs. “It’s ok.”

She smiles, and he watches as she powers off her phone. “And now we ignore everyone for the rest of the night,” she smiles, reaching past him to pluck his phone of the counter and do the same with it.

“Ok,” he finds himself laughing.  It was a good idea, their phones had already begun to buzz with notifications the moment their stream had ended.  While he tried not to think about them too much, his fan club would probably have a strong reaction to the news and he didn’t think he really wanted to spend the evening wading through the mentions.

Soojin leaves him to finish washing his face and brushing his hair.  And maybe he rushes thinking about  _ his _ girlfriend in  _ their _ hotel bed and the implied promises of their interrupted morning.  In the end, she’s already fast asleep on the bed a soft pink bunny hugged tight to her chest.  He can’t even bring himself to be disappointed as he climbs into the bed next to her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry this took too long, everything is a mess IRL at the moment but heyyyy have some smut?

They wake to knocking on their door and a cautious Jaehee entering with her eyes covered.  Soojin covers his mouth to stop him from calling out and wiggles just enough that the bed squeaks a few times before she gives away her joke with a laugh followed by Yoosung’s pink tinged insistence that nothing was happening.

“Thank god,” she says over Soojin’s giggles.

Yoosung cringes when he turns on his phone.  Hundreds of notifications chime in turn as he sets it down to get ready for their morning.  Tripter chirps, texts buzz, Noogle alerts chime. Emails, voicemails, he considers exactly how long sifting through each will take, he isn’t looking forward to it.  Especially if they’re negative.

He’s worried they’re negative.

There’s no time to shower, he watches Soojin spray something in her hair as they brush their teeth, she sprays it in his too.  Toothbrush held between her teeth as she runs her fingers through his hair and sprays. They pull on knit hats and Yoosung marvels as they leave the room that her phone is  _ still _ off,  _ still _ sitting on the nightstand.

There’s no time.  Day two sees them doing just as well as day one.  Their team picks up in rankings, though not without some struggle and they make it through to the next round, but it’s closer to not than Yoosung would like.  Their ranks come with more interviews and more photos. Jumin calls to congratulate them.

And to chastise them.  “It’s not wise to date within your workgroup,” he says, an unfamiliar tone in his voice.

“It’s fine,” Soojin shrugs at the computer screen.

“Jumin waves her off, “Still I wish you have discussed this with me first.”

Soojin shrugs again.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Yoosung tries.  “The alternative is lying and I’m not really comfortable with that.”

“It is,” Jumin shakes his head dismissively, “ _ done _ .  We will mitigate the damage.”

“ _ Damage _ ,” Yoosung repeats remembering the notifications on his phone.  Soojin snorts.

Jumin waves him off.  “It’s  _ fine _ , nothing exceptional.”

The conversation shifts to the tournament and Soojin orders takeout.  They eat, Yoosung showers, then Soojin and he doesn’t remember her climbing into bed.  Doesn’t remember her curling herself around him.

He wakes to the alarm on his phone and Soojin growling into his chest.  Pre-Finals interviews start early, they’ve barely time for breakfast. Yoosung makes his first social media post since their announcement and immediately turns the notifications off.

They win.  Much to their own surprise.  Soojin makes what should have been a suicidal play  _ just _  barely earning them a spot in the play for gold.  Gold is won with a whimper. A chorus of  _ No No No _ , mumbles from Yoosung and an almost manically chuckled  _ fuck it _ from Soojin.

Yoosung’s eyes aren’t even open when the horn signals the end of the match.  He doesn’t open them until the first plush toy lands on his head. Apparently his, western at least, fans weren’t so mad about him having a girlfriend.

There’s a party.  It’s supposed to be formal but Yoosung has been ti enough of these things to know the closest to formal they’ll see id a ruffled tuxedo shirt or a set of tails over a graphic tee.  He wears a button down and his best pair of jeans. Both designer though he couldn’t say which. Zen and Rika had taken him shopping the year before and insisted he needed them.

Soojin pulls her hair into a messy bun and despite her patchwork harem pants and a pair of space age leather hightops Yoosung is enamored.  He’s excited to go to one of these things with a partner, not just a teammate but a  _ girlfriend _ , but her collar is wide and her lips are shiny and pink when they leave and Yoosung  _ wants _ .

He just  _ wants _ .

Soojin doesn’t drink, so Yoosung doesn’t drink.  Soojin laughs, and her easy way with English makes her fast friends with everyone she chooses to speak to and he finds he doesn’t mind not drinking if he gets to watch her like this. 

She keeps him in the loop, and he finds with her there their are no awkward lulls in conversation, no pauses while he tries to parse an idiom or makes sense of unfamiliar slang.  He enjoys himself. Soojin eggs on the messy drunks and laughs freely, Yoosung enjoys himself. Even if he does spend the whole night wanting to kiss the gloss off her lips. 

Even if he wants to bury his face in the dip where her shoulder meets her neck and mark her as his.

But it’s been a long day.

“Yoosung-ah,” she whines when he flops into the bed.

“Mmpff,” he huffs as she climbs on top of him.  “Jin-ah,” he grunts as she shifts her weight to tuck her head under his chin.

“M’sneefy,” she whines, shifting around more.

It’s innocent.  He feels warm, soft.  She snuggles closer, her breath is warm as it puffs across his collar bones with each little fussy sound she makes.

“You have literally the  _ worst _ taste in alarm sounds,” Soojin huffs, shoving herself off of him at much too early in the morning.

It’s hard not to think about the way her hands had felt when they’re both comfortably tucked in for another ten hours in the air.  Soojin climbs into his lap the moment the seatbelt light is off. Airline blanket tight around her shoulders as she swings slippered feet over the armrest and tucks her hooded head into his chest.

“G’night,” she mumbles.

They lose most of a day.  Not just to travel but also to the time change. Yoosung takes the time to look at his messages and notifications.  Too many mentions to sift through he decides to delete them part way through, but his texts from his sister and voicemails from his mother require immediate attention.  Yoosung spends a good portion of the flight composing a statement for his fan page and an apology to his mother.

Soojin makes soft disgruntled sounds when the seatbelt light comes on and she’s forced to untangle herself.  “This is a hate crime,” she whines pulling her hood tighter. 

Hats, masks and hoods on, bags collected, Soojin tucks her hand into Yoosung’s and leans down to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna come back to mine?” She asks.

“Can’t,” he yawns.

“We can nap,” she says, “or  _ whatever _ .”  She says stretching and waggling her eyebrows at him.

Yoosung tugs first her mask then his own down to their chins and kisses her.  She wraps her arms tight around his waist and  _ god _ .

“Gross,” a familiar voice snorts.

Saeran tugs his luggage out of his hand and tosses it in Saeyoung’s open trunk.  Soojin doesn’t let go.

Red hair and Gucci glasses pop out of the driver’s window. “Get in loser we’re doing computer science.”

“I’ve got a class,” Yoosung pouts.

Soojin kisses his nose and tugs his hat over his eyes before she pulls his mask back up.

“Fine,” she pouts, “go to class, be responsible,” she throws her hands up in mock frustration, “ _ I guess _ .”

Yoosung laughs as his friends roll their identical eyes and Soojin kisses him one more time before pulling out her phone to find her own ride.

“So,” Saeran says, turning from his spot in the front passenger seat to glare at Yoosung.

“So what,” Yoosung pouts, knowing exactly what.

“Girlfriend,” Saeyoung sings and the sound of  [ The Lonely Island’s  _ I just had sex _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o) , gets increasingly louder until it drowns out the sound of the twins laughter.

It only reminds Yoosung that he hasn’t  _ actually _ , though he’d never tell them that.

He has the  _ good fortune _ to return on his busiest day for classes.  He has two left and neither professor has any interest in why he is late or falling asleep in their class.  He makes a point of visiting with any professor still holding office hours and a few TAs so that he’s not entirely lost jumping back into classes and then he heads to the studio space Jumin holds for their OLC meetings.

“Soojin’s not here loverboy,” he’s too tired to register which of them said it.  He slumps into a chair determined to participate since he was there anyway but it only seems like seconds later he’s being gently shaken awake.

“We’re going home,” Yujin smiles softly at him.  “Didn’t seem right to just  _ leave _ you here.”

“ _ Oh no _ ,” Yoosung mumbles through a yawn.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says over her phone, “no one expected you today anyway.”

He doesn’t even notice really as he gets on the bus.  His mind firmly planted in thoughts of his bed, his pillows, of Soojin curled around his back, the warmth of her hand through his tshirt, and the soft smell of amber and and sandalwood that comes from her hair.  He doesn’t even notice really until the buildings look wrong and the bus stops on the corner of Soojin’s street. An older man shuffling with a walker gives him time to gather his wits and realize he’d gotten on the wrong bus.

It’s late.

He texts Soojin as he shuffles towards her building.

[SupermanYoosung]: Please tell me you’re awake   
[UnnieBunnie]: why are U awake?   
[SupermanYoosung]: I’m outside can I come up?   
[UnnieBunnie]: :3   
[SupermanYoosung]: Please? I’m tired.

The door clicks and he grabs for it.  Stumbles his way into the elevator instead of taking the stairs because he’s almost positive he’ll fall asleep and tumble to his death.  He almost falls asleep in the elevator, his head snapping up as the elevator jerks to a stop.

Soojin is waiting at her door, opening it wider when he comes into view and holding out her arms for him to stumble into.  She looks rested, smells good, like she slept and showered and probably eaten real food.

“Miss me Pet?” she mumbles fondly into his hair.

His greasy hair, he realizes.  His campus coffee shop sandwich breath and 10 hours on an airplane hair.  He smells like a combination of stale airplane air and the weird body odor smell that seems to haunt the chair he’d fallen asleep in in the studio.  He pulls himself out of her arms and slips off his sneakers.

“Noona I’m gross,” he whines.

She chuckles, “have you eaten?”

He nods and shrugs.

“Yah, go shower, I’ll heat something up for you dummy.”

He stands there for a minute, as though the whole idea has actually struck him dumb and then he slowly shrugs his shoulders and shuffles towards the bathroom to shower.  It feels almost like he imagines a healing spell would feel. Like the warm stream of water is restoring his HP. He brushes his teeth with his finger and gargles some mouthwash and re-enters the apartment feeling like he’s restored 75% of his health bar.

True to her word Soojin has a plate of takeout heated and waiting on the coffee table.  Curled up on one end of her small soft sofa she looks up from her phone and smiles, “Feeling better Baby?” 

He feels his cheeks heat up and he nods, sinking into the plush cushions and shoveling food into his mouth.  

“Did you even chew?” she teases when he’s washing his plate in her sink.

“I might have inhaled it,” he laughs, “like Kirby.”

She shakes her head, “You wish you were a twunk like Kirby.”

He makes a startled sound and based on her laughter decides not to respond further.

It’s funny how natural everything seems.  Yoosung’s experience with sex and relationships was not vast.  It was a small island ecosystem of getting to know himself. Blundering through overlapping territories of more superior animals.  The way someone’s hand on his knee invited a wave of analytics. The checklists he’s used to in his head just to be certain he’s read every signal exactly right.

He almost never has.

Soojin wasn’t like that.  There were no checklists, no nervous fear that maybe he’d read something wrong.  No desire to over analyze the way she shifted when he’d finished eating to lay her head against his hip while she continued to read on her phone.  The way he wasn’t at all embarrassed to be nodding off on her sofa to lofi music and the ambient glow of soft anime scenery loops. 

The way he doesn’t wonder about her intentions when she turns her head and presses a little kiss to his belly through his hoodie. The way the weight of her palm on his thigh induces calm rather than panic while her fingers trace the patterns on the sleep pants he’d spent the day in.  He doesn’t panic when she tugs him down to lay properly on the soft little sofa, or when she buries her face into his soft tummy. 

The next time his eyes drift open he doesn’t question why she’s pushed his shirt up, or the kisses she presses to his belly.  Sometimes, Yoosung understood, soft tummies invited soft kisses.

It’s not until the third time his eyes drift open he realizes that maybe he should have considered Soojin’s motives a little more carefully.  Not until he feels her fingers curl in the elastic of his pants and looks down to see her big dark eyes staring questioningly up at him that he realizes that maybe there was more to this.

But she smiles and he realizes, it doesn’t matter really.  It doesn’t matter if the soft touches were meant to lead to this from the moment she laid her head against his hip or if they’d simply gotten here naturally.  There was no panic, just the warm relieved feeling that she was his, and they finally had time for this.

No schedule, no alarms, no Kang Jaehee to unlock the door at a moments notice.

“Baby,” she says, voice soft like silk as her fingers tug slightly at his pants, “are you awake?”

Yoosung swallows, he nods his head and cards one hand through her hair.

“Is this okay?” She asks in that same voice, low and silky and his lifts his hips just enough for her to tug his pants down around his thighs.

He nods again as he lifts his hand and runs his thumb along the curve of her cheek. Ambient lofi matching the beat of his heart from the TV as she turns her head so his thumb presses gently against her lip.

Yoosung watches as her mouth relaxes, watches the way her lips part. The way the seam of her pout splits so slowly that time may have stopped.  The way the movement has left a space for her tongue to dart out and catch the tip of his thumb as she wets her lips.

The way she smirks at the little sound he hadn’t realized he’d made.

He presses his thumb firmer against her lip and her tongue darts out to lap at the digit before she opens her mouth, dark eyes still trained on him from where she sits nestled between his knees.  He shifts, sits up slightly before pressing his index finger into her mouth. She lets it sit heavy on her tongue for a moment as her dark eyes seem to lose focus. He lets his other hand card through her hair for a moment before her lips close around his finger and her tongue curls up along the rough pad; the soft brush of her teeth as she sucks.

Yoosung groans, his fingers tighten in her hair and she doesn’t have time to pout at the loss of the finger in her mouth before he’s kissing her.  Lips crashing together as his hands drop to the oversized sweater, fisting in the excess material so that he can tug her up and closer. Each stumble of her knees against his thighs and hips bring a new and more desperate wave of kisses.  As though he’s making up for every missed opportunity from the last few days.

“What an eager Boy,” she coos when she’s finally sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips as he buries his face in her neck.

He whines when she presses her hips down against him, just the boxer briefs she’s wearing under the sweater to separate them. “ _ Noona _ .”

She hooks a finger under his chin and tilts his face up so that she can rain kisses across his cheeks and over his nose.  Her hands moving to cover his where they’ve fisted in her sweater, gently unfolding his fingers and guiding his hands underneath the ocean of fabric she’s swimming in.

She sighs when his hands press against her sides, sends another shower of soft kisses across his face, a soft whisper of  _ good boy _ , when they move.  His thumbs pressing into her belly as he drags his palms along the soft skin.  Up her waist and past her ribs as her kisses trace the line of his jaw, cupping her breasts as she sighs softly against the shell of his ear.

She presses closer against him, his hands pinned between their chests as his tongue flicks into his mouth and then she’s grinding down against his lap again, thighs squeezing at his hips as joystick calloused thumbs brush over her nipples.

“Baby,” she sighs, rolling her hips and throwing her head back.  A deep breath followed by as gasp as he rolls his own to meet her.

Then she’s shifting, and he’s wrapping his arms tight around her waist, holding her there with his face buried between soft cotton and softer tits. While she laughs fondly and pushes gently at him.

“Needy baby,” she coos untangling herself from him. “Noona will be right back.  Noona will take care of you, don’t worry.”

He watches with rapt attention as she slips her briefs down to pool at her feet, watches her tug his pants the rest of the way off.  Watches as she straddles his thigh, one foot still firmly planted on the floor while her knee sinks into the soft cushions of her sofa.  One hand disappears into the pocket of her sweater the other settles on his pelvis, her thumb teasing softly his half hard dick.

“Pretty,” she whispers bending to lick a stripe along the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

He gasps, does his level best not to thrust up in search of her mouth but it doesn’t matter. She’s smiling up at him as she takes his cock into her mouth, her head bobbing between his thighs as his hands fist in the sheets.  He whines and his thighs flex with the restraint it takes not to buck into her mouth and then just as quickly she’s gone. A soft kiss placed to the tip of his cock and the crinkle of torn foil before she’s rolling a condom over him.

Then she’s kissing him again, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth as she rolls her hips, grinds herself along his length and all he can do is hold onto her hips.  Breathless with whines and whimpers as he bucks his hips forward, trying not to push too far. All he wants to do is bury himself inside of her but the way she teases him, pulling back just before he gets too lost in the motion of his dick between her folds, giggling gently at the little frustrated noises he can’t help but make.

“ _ Noona _ ,” he whines, almost sobs. He’s so hard it almost hurts and she’s so perfect above him.  Still wearing that giant sweater as she grinds against him.

“What do you need Baby,” she asks, her voice all honey even if it breaks a little in the middle when he brushes against her clit.

“I need,” he pants and it’s not like he’s embarrassed to say it, not any more, not with her, but he can’t.  He can’t find the right words, everything about her is so perfect, so easy and natural and vibrant and  _ I need to fuck you _ , seems crass in comparison. “I want,” he tries but the words still don’t come to him so he pushes himself up to sitting, covers her mouth in a kiss he hopes says all the words he seems to have lost.  

His hands slip under her sweater fingers digging into her soft ass as he pulls her tighter against him, whining at the friction when she shifts against him. Then she raises herself up on her knees as his hands slip, palms flat, along the curve of her hips fingers pressing into the dip above her ass as she reaches between them and sinks down onto him.

He throws his head back as she settles down over his lap, rolling her hips shallowly and pressing chaste kisses along the column of his exposed throat.  Her hands pressing gently on his chest until his back hits the sofa and she raises up, her weight heavy on his ribs where her hands rest.

She sighs as she lets herself sink slowly back down on him, cheeks colouring pink, her hair falling loose from the messy bun she’d pulled it into.  He strokes her thighs under the overlarge sweater and she shifts again. Runs her hands under  _ his _ sweater.  Soft and cool from the chill in the apartment and he gasps when she drags blunt nails across his nipples before pushing the whole thing up and over his head.  

His hips jerk up and she moans, her thighs shaking around him. “ _ Yoosung _ ,” she pants, collapsing against him.

“Please,” he whimpers.

They’re a mess, she pushes herself back up but there is no more soft and sweet as she fucks down onto him, neither one of them prepared to draw it out any longer now that they finally have one another, but it’s Yoosung who stutters, who cries out, thrusting hard up into her as he cums.  

She doesn’t complain, doesn’t chastise or tease him as she rides him past the point of comfortable oversensitivity. 

It’s the startled yelp when he wraps a hand around her thigh as she moves to walk away that gives him the confidence to follow through.  To tug her back down on the sofa beside him, to roll himself onto the floor and kneel between her feet. It’s the way he fingers comb the tangles out of his over processed hair and the fond look on her face as he pulls her ass to the edge of the sofa.

The soft sigh when his tongue parts her folds and he finally gets to taste her again.  Her fingers tightening in his hair tell him he’s found something she likes as he sucks a kiss against her clit and presses two fingers into her.  She holds his head tight against her when she cums, thighs tight around his ears as she rolls her hips, grinds against his face and he would happily die here. Suffocate between her thighs and go into the next life without a single regret.

Then her hand is gentle again, combing new knots out of his hair before she urges him up and he can’t help himself.

Her sweater is so warm and he’s naked and cold.  He pushes his head under the soft coral cotton and presses a kiss to her navel, as she laughs.

“Yoosung what are you  _ doing _ ?”

“Exploring,” he says seriously and presses another kiss to dip below her ribs.

“This is  _ my _ sweater,” she giggles pushing half heartedly at his head as he presses a kiss to her sternum.

“It’s a wonderful sweater,” he nods between her breasts, tucking his arms around her and settling down, “a family of five could live in here,” he adds.

“You’re heavy,” she whines as she strokes his back.

“You’re warm,” he nods with a kiss to the top of her breast.

They lay there for a moment while she strokes his back, until the damp heat of his breath starts to make him claustrophobic and he backs out, following his path of kisses.

He rolls the condom off and knots it before he pulls his clothing back on and when he’s finished, Soojin is coming out of the bathroom stretching and yawning and shuffling towards her bed.  Yoosung makes his own detour, drops the condom in the wastebasket and washes his hands, brushes his teeth with his finger one more time.

Soojin lifts the blankets, the soft pastel glow of aesthetic anime and the calming beat of lofi still play on her TV as she gestures for him to climb in next to her.

As he falls asleep with the comforting weight of her head on his chest Yoosung thinks that he might just be a little spoiled.

  
  
  



	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope this wraps everything up. Sorry the end took so long.

Yoosung wakes up the next morning to the sound of Soojin swearing into his armpit, the sound of his alarm and the uncoordinated slapping of Soojin’s hand on his chest.

He wakes up most mornings like this.  He finds himself, more often than not, getting on the  _ wrong _ bus and ending up at Soojin’s apartment instead of his own.  He ends up, more often than not, finding excuses for Soojin to come to his when he doesn’t.

OLC comes and goes.  They do well, they don’t win but they come in second and Yoosung finds that the joy of his teammates and Soojin’s teasing cushions the blow.  Second place is maybe not so bad. Maybe knowing they’ve done their best is good enough. He doesn’t even pick apart their lost match.

He finds himself entering more tournaments with Soojin, either as a team or simply just together.  They laugh a lot. He goes to classes. Sometimes Soojin meets him with lunch. He comes home alone one day, for the first time in weeks.  It’s more than a year since that night when he’d come home confused and embarrassed and he finds Zen sitting at their little dining table and he looks both excited and worried.

He can feels his friend’s ruby eyes following him as he slips off his shoes and hangs up his bag.

“Is Jinnie on her way up?”

“Nah, Taewon is in town, they’re getting lunch,” Yoosung shrugs.  He used to be jealous of his girlfriend’s childhood friend. Used to feel like the younger man was better than him and one day she would realize it.  

Zen raises an eyebrow at him, “You’re not invited?”

“I was,” Yoosung shrugs.  He didn’t measure himself against popular Idol Nam Taewon anymore.  He was Soojin’s best friend, her surrogate little brother, Yoosung didn’t worry about those things so much anymore. “Tae’s nice, I’ll see him some other time.  I’ve got homework anyway.”

Zen chuckles, “You wanna play video games without her so you know you’ll win for once huh?”

Yoosung blushes and shrugs.  He makes himself a coffee and sits across from Zen at the table.

“So,” Zen says and he slides his own lukewarm coffee cup between his hands. “Our lease is up next month.”

Yoosung nods.

“And I think we should drop it.”

“You what?” Yoosung asks, but his surprise is only surface.  Neither of them are ever home, neither of them  _ need _ to split the rent anymore.

But Zen’s cheeks are pink, “I uh, I’ve got a steady gig on a Drama and they film, you know, they film closer to Busan and-”

“I guess it’s kind of a waste.” Yoosung nods.

“I’m not, springing it on you?” Zen asks, thumb tracing the top of his mug.

Yoosung shrugs, “It’s two months, I can stay with the twins if I don’t find anywhere, look at maybe moving back on campus.”

“You wouldn’t just ask Soojin?” Zen frowns.

“What?”

“I mean you basically live at her place anyway,” he says, hands flat on the table, frown deepening.

Yoosung’s cheeks darken and he finds himself very busy drinking his coffee.

Soojin laughs when he brings it up.  “You mean you  _ don’t _ live here already?”

He supposes it’s an honest question, he had clothes in her closet, half the stuffed toys in her apartment were his now, he kept a toothbrush and hair products in her bathroom, and most of the groceries he bought ended up in her kitchen lately.  It’s an easy transition. Nothing particularly changes in Soojins comfortable studio apartment.

A second desk is placed opposite Soojin’s, the soft pinks and fluffy toys are joined by pale blues and stars.  She surprised him one night shortly after he officially moves in by turning off the lights while he’s cooking to reveal the kitchen covered in glow in the dark stars.  His fanclub supports them fully and he finds with Soojin’s encouragement it’s easier to interact with them. 

Occasionally some diehard stan will post something incendiary on a photo of them together, or a photo of Soojin but Yoosung rarely gets time to react.  His fans take care of it. His fans take care of them.

After two years together, with graduation looming Yoosung announces his desire to retire from competitive gaming.  He assures his fans he’ll still stream and shortly after there’s an announcement from the studio that makes LOLOL that Kim Yoosung has been hired on as a developer for their new unnamed project.

Soojin continues to compete, continues to do well with C&R’s support.  Yoosung goes to every competition, so do the twins. They visit Zen on set whenever they can and Soojin starts a monthly game night which quickly turns from board games to TTRPGs, Saeyoung falls into place as their game master and it’s after some particularly clever campaigns that Yoosung announces his departure from his development team.

Yoosung and the twins kickstart their own game, they double their goal and hire Zen and Taewon to voice characters.  Pre-sales do so well that Han Jumin hosts a release party. Yoosung stands on a podium next to the twins in their flamboyant suits.  He’d thought about trying to match up, buying his own ridiculous suit but he sticks with what he knows. Wears the suit from his wedding, suspenders and bow tie and a graphic-t underneath.  

It’s late, day one sales have broken records and Han Jumin has the three boys standing in front of the crowd, thanking them for their support and it feels disingenuous somehow.  Only half these people will play the game, if that. The rest are old men just happy to have made a buck off of the kid they’d told Jumin was a waste of time so many years ago. 

It’s been a long night and the twins ramble on, thanking and joking and verbally sparring with one another.  Yoosung’s tie is undone, his collar unbuttoned and the Overlook mascot peeks out from behind his dress shirt.  He keeps his eyes on Soojin as they hand him the microphone. Keeps his eyes on the hint of an undercut below her loosely styled hair, and the little streak of colour in her now dark hair,  _ blue _ in support of him.

He thinks about how he wouldn’t be here without her.  He watches her dodge old men in her high waisted dress pants.  Watches the way she winks at him when he starts talking. He keeps his words general.  His sincere thanks appearing to encompass the onlookers though they both know he’s speaking only to her.  He watches the soft skin of her belly between her crop top and her pants when she stretches to put her jacket on and finishes his thank yous as quick as he can.

They’ve done this before.

Soojin hadn’t wasted time in bringing it up when she’d found out he wasn’t straight.  The harness she’d had already but they’d gone together and Yoosung had picked out a pretty dildo for her to fuck him with.  Soft muted pinks and purples that he thought looked nice between her thighs. 

Still thinks it looks nice.  Their collection has grown, some are bigger, some vibrate, or are exotically shaped.  But right now, on nights like tonight, this is the one that he wants. The one they picked out together.  He thinks of this one as part of her. This is Soojin’s dick.

He thinks about how pretty she is, as her fingers slip into his hair.  Thinks about how much he loves her dick as he licks his lips and listens to her voice above him.  He thinks about how much he loves her, his wife, the woman who’d chosen him when she could have had anyone.

“Look at you,” she smiles down at him, “what a good boy you are,” she coos, he fingers scratching softly behind his ear.  She presses her dick against his plush bottom lip and sighs. “You’re so patient,” she smiles and the ball of her sock-foot presses down on his cock through the soft cotton panties he’s been wearing all night.  

He can feel it twitch against her foot, but he’s practiced at controlling himself by now and if she notices minut the jerk of his hips she doesn’t mention it.  

She leans away from him, the pressure of her foot on his cock increases slowly and then lightens.  Her toes tease his tip as she presses down again. Yoosung is practiced at controlling himself by now but Soojin is equally practiced at swiftly pulling him apart and it’s not long before his head lulls back.  His bound hands now firmly on the floor behind him and then-

He whimpers.

“Hmm,” she hums, “you look so pretty Pet, do you like this?”

He nods, “please.”

Her pace increases, the pressure heavier and then very suddenly her foot his gone and her fingers curl under his collar and yank him forward and he realizes he’s lost control.  He can’t remember when, somewhere in the haze of his thoughts he vaguely wonders how long she’d let him hump her foot before she’d decided to stop. 

“Do Good Pets take more than they’re given?” She asks, and her voice is firm but fond.

He shakes his head.

“How will you make it up to me?” She wonders aloud.

It’s not really a question for him.  He knows that. Still he can’t stop the words, they start on his tongue the moment they appear in his head. “Please Noona, may I suck your cock.”

He waits, wonders if he’ll be punished.  Good pets don’t talk usually but Soojin smiles fondly at him. “I’m not sure if that’s a punishment for you Pet,” she says softly, her fingers stroking through his hair again, “but you asked so nicely.”

He thumb presses against his plush bottom lip, already swollen from their needy kisses in the back of the hired car on the way home.  He lets his mouth fall open, lets her press her thumb against his tongue, lets himself whine wantanly when she pulls her hand away.

“Alright,” she says softly, “show me how you suck my cock and if you do well I’ll fuck you.”

He starts slow, mouthing at the tip as her fingers gently card through his hair.  He works himself up to it, his tongue teasing at the rubber the way he’d suck any other cock and she responds the same, moaning softly as he pulls away.  He gets it wet, likes to make a mess when he sucks her dick, taking it deeper with every downstroke until he feels it hit the back of his throat. He swallows around it and watches the way she looks at him, pupils blown as she growls softly before. “Good Boy Yoosung, what a good boy, you looks so pretty sucking my dick,  _ god _ .

His cheeks hollow and his head bobs. He slips his fingers beneath the harness and she’s so wet as she rocks into his mouth.  He relaxes his throat and looks up at her, eyes pleading and he doesn’t have to ask. Not any more. 

She fucks his throat in slow precise strokes as he teases her with his fingers.  Listens to her moan and fall apart as tears sting his eyes until finally her nails dig into his scalp and she stills with her cock buried in his throat whispering,  _ please don’t stop. _

He doesn’t. He takes shallow breaths through his nose, his cock throbbing against his panties as he fingers her clumsily around the confines of the harness.  His thumb brushing her clit as his fingers curl against her tightening walls. He gags on her cock when she cums. 

She rough with him as she unbinds his hands and tugs him up, almost throws him on the bed and his panties tear as she tugs them off.  He vaguely wonders if there’s an appropriate god to thank for sexual foresight as she impatiently works the plug out of his ass. 

He’s not sure what he’s more thankful for, the fact that they don’t have to waste time with prep or the way she she bites her lip to muffle a needy sound when she sees it.

She kisses him as she buries her cock in his ass, swallows his groan as his hips kick up and his untouched cock finally finds friction against her belly.

She stays where she is as he squirms beneath her. Leaves a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his shoulder as he whines and writhes. 

“Please,” he begs as she manhandles the collar off of him to suck an angry red mark into his throat.

“Please what,” she growls, “use your words.”

“Fuck me,” he whimpers. “Please Noona,  _ please _ , fuck me, fuck me hard.”

He barely finishes the words before she’s sat back on her heels, tugging his ass up and angling him so that she hits his prostate. He tries in vain to meet each of her thrusts but her hands hold him firm.  “Is this what you want,” she asks.

He nods, or he thinks he nods but it's hard to control any part of his body independantly and it’s more of a tensing of his neck and a dropping of his chin than a concise nod.  She chuckles, leaning forward to leave kisses across his chest, tongue lapping at his nipples.

_ “Noona _ ,” he whines.

She leans back, panting, her hair loose around her face. “Do you want to cum Pet?”

“ _ Please _ ,” he whimpers.

“Let me see you,” she coos.

It doesn’t take long, just a few strokes of his hand before he’s cumming, stripes of white pool on his chest and he barely notices her pull out, barely registers the sound of the harness landing heavy next to him as she moves.  She stops, knees braced on either side of his chest, both of them panting as he nods.

She settles over his face and he runs his hands along the back of her thighs.  She’s so wet as he tugs her down closer to his face. He can hear the headboard creek, her grip on it tightening as he dips his tongue between her folds, flicks it against her clit.  It’s not long before she cums again, his tongue flattening against her clit before dipping into her, soft kisses against her clit as he laps at her folds. She writhes above him, hips rolling down against his face until she stutters, her voice low as she growls.  Hands dropping from the headboard to fist in his hair as she gushes her release around his tongue.

They’re married now, they’ve been together for years and as she curls around him, wiping him off with an old tshirt and tugging the blanket from the foot of the bed over top of them, Yoosung knows there’s no-where else he’d rather be.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This will update in roughly 2k word chapters weekly on Wednesdays while I finish up some of my rairpair fics.
> 
> It is entirely inspired by a very good friend's HC (with permission, thanks Boss!)
> 
> Also guess who is 457% bullshitting everything to do with competitive gaming, it's me!


End file.
